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THE RAG-BAG 



COLLECTION OF EPHEMEEA 



N. PAEKEE WILLIS 




<L 



r 



NEW YOKE: 
CHARLES SCRIBNER, 145 NASSAU STREET. 

1855. 



7S3 3 2.4- 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1855, by 

CHARLES SCRIBNER, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New York. 



tobitt's combination-ttpb, 
181 William st. 



SUBSCRIBE D 

TO 



Ml €a\\%tuxi ix'xnti oft $ jeliflto-f BlwrM, 

FOR TWENTY OR MORE YEARS, 

GEOBGE P. MORRIS, 

WITH SENTIMENTS AND LABORS " TO BE CONTINUED." 



PEEFACE. 



The following volume is a selection from the articles 
written for the Home Journal, of which the author is one 
of the Editors. The change in the taste of the times — 
literature being more served in small fragments than it 
used to be— is one inducement to collect these brief 
compositions into a book ; but another reason is the 
feeling of the author that they deserve it as well as his 
other writings, in being written with equal care and 
elaboration ; while the approbation which they have met 
with in the success of the periodical of which they were 
the leading feature, makes it certain that they will be, at 
least, saleable. Such a collection, however, will have 
still another value, as containing photographs of the 
passing events, celebrities, and topics of the time, and 
just that look and impress of them which were lost in 
the bubble-breaking now of the tide of periodical litera- 



vi. PEEFACE. 

ture. They are " rags" — but they •will be useful for a 
re-glauce at the web and woof of the time in which they 
were written ; and the author trusts they will also be 
found to contain a scrap or two that the world may be 
not unwilling to patch into the quilt of its kind remem- 
brance. 

Idlewild, 1855. • 



CONTENTS. 



Page 
The Newspaper . . . . .11 

Three Days in. the Country . .15 

Gentlemen's Sons in New York •. . . .19 

The Prize Fight, and its Under-Current and Bearings . 22 

The Article Youth in New York ... 28 

On Furnishing a House; 

Moral of Furniture— Servile Copying of Neighbors in America— Heart- 
work and affectionate Taste done by Upholsterers and Cabinet-ma- 
kers — English aim in Furnishing — Vulgarity of Newness — Chairs 
suited to Individuals— Disrespectfulness of Easy Seats taken by 
Slight Acquaintances— Preserved Nucleus of Old Furniture — English 
look-out for choice articles to express affection— Careful location of 
articles in a drawing-room, to produce variety and a look of uncere- 
moniousness— The Wife's Corner— Place for tete-a-tete— Pictures- 
Value of Home Associations— Duty of Poets and Preachers 'as to 
Culture of Home Attachments, etc. .... 32 



(7) 



viii CONTENTS. 

Barnum's Prize, of $200 for the best "Welcome Song" to 

Jenny Lind ..... 37 

Society, lately . . . . . 40 

"What is upon Us : 

Paris coming over— The Westwardizing of the World's Centre— The 
Jenny Iiind epoch of Artistic Migration — Franconi's troop— Circus- 
riders " in society"— Cerito— Camille Leroux— Fashionable Amphi- 
theatre in Broadway— Coming of a new class of Travellers and 
Idlers to New York— Necessary changes in Luxuries and Accommo- 
dations—Probable French Theatre, and Formation of English and 
French Society, etc. etc. . . . . . 45 

Uppermost Gossip — Society Breakers a-head . . 49 

Town Gossip ..... 58 

Tke Central Plane . . ... . 65 

The Ladies A-stir — Rights of the Sex discussed recently at 

the Ohio Female Convention . . 69 

Gossipping Letter — To the Lady Subscriber out of New York 78 

The Trade of Authorship .... 83 

Opera, and the Uses of the Pit . . . .88 

Life Boats ....... 91 

Valuation of a " Foreign Appointment" . . .96 

Moral of May Movings . . . . 101 

Things Wasted . .■ . . . 103 

International Liberality ..... 107 

Inaccessible Pictures and Statuary . . . 114 

Question for New York Clubs . . . .117 

Letter on Passing Topics : 

Visit to the Residence of the late Mr. Downing— Coming Sale of that 
beautiful spot, and thoughts thereupon— Visit to Mr. Clay's Law 
Office at Lexington, and Description of it— Sontag, pointed out by 
Theodore Fay, while conversing with the King of Prussia in an 
Opera-box at Berlin— Her curious history— Thackeray— His Per- 
sonal Appearance and Manners— Probabilities of Popularity here — 
Anecdote of him, etc. etc. ..... 121 



CONTENTS. ix 

Editorial Memoranda . . . . . 130 

Town Gossip for the Country with any Lady Subscriber at a 

Distance ...... 136 

Second Homage to the American Aristocracy . . 143 

The Town, Just Now .... 150 

Uppermost Town Topics . . . . 155 

.Private Habits and Manners of Jenny Lind . . 158 

Orations and $100 ( ..... 164 

American Homage to Woman . . 167 

Ladies, vs. Lords of Creation . , . . 173 

French Society, Apropos of the Society of New York . 178 

Post-Mortuum Soiree ..... 184 

Dress Excitement, and Probable Increase of Eemale Beauty 195 

Ghost Knockings ..... 199 

The " Newspaper Antidote" .... 206 

Town Topics . . . . .210 

11 " ..... 214 

City News and Chat ..... 219 

Public Enthusiasms . . . 223 
The Mothers of the Bible • . . . .229 

Letter on Passing Topics . . . 235 
Portraits of Three New York Belles . . .241 

New York Society .... 256 

Autographs ...... 260 

A Little Gossip ..... 262 

Nature Introduced into Society . - . . . 267 

The Husband Market .... 27"1 

Fashion, Movements, and the Season . . , 274 

Town Topics . . . , , 277 



CONTENTS. 



Editorial Confabs 

Confab I. 
Confab II. 
Confab III. 
Confab IV. 
Confab V. 
Confab VI. 
Confab VII. 
Confab VIII. 
Confab IX. 
Confab X. , 
Confab XI. 



285 
291 
296 
304 
314 
320 
328 
332 
341 
347 
352 



THE RAG-BAG. 



THE NEWSPAPER. 



As we feel the sunshine ; as we breathe the balmy air ; as 
we draw our life of life from household affection — all uncon- 
sciously — so we drink in the pleasures and blessings of the 
newspaper ; careless, yet eager, and though dependent, 
unthankful. He must be an imaginative man who can tell the 
value of the newspaper, for only he can fancy what it would 
be to be deprived of it. Another Byron might write another 
"Darkness" on the state of a world newspaperless. (Q. Why 
not newspaperless as well as " sailorless ?') If we should 
attempt to personify such a world it would be under the form 
of a blind man holding in his hand the empty string from which 
his dog has escaped ; or the good lady in Hood's picture, with 
her foot advanced to step on board a steamer which she sud- 



12 



THE KAG-BAG. 



denfy observes to have moved six feet from the wharf. Or, 
again, a stranger in the bottom of a mine, who, after blowing 
out his " Davy," runs to the shaft and finds that somebody- 
has taken away the ladder. But images of blank confusion 
and inanity crowd upon us so fast, that we shall become poet- 
ical against our will if we pursue this vein. 

A family friend, who is constant in his attentions : full of 
information ; not too dignified to take some interest in the gos- 
sip of the day for our amusement ; with a good memory for 
fine poetry, and the happy faculty of relating an anecdote 
well ; with gravity for sad hours and gayety for our glad ones ; 
not exigeant, nor touchy, if we use the privilege of intimacy to 
overlook him sometimes — how pleasant is such a friend ! how 
rare ! We may " wish that heaven had made us such a man ;" 
but, meanwhile, we had- better make the most of the newspa- 
per, which, if it be worthy the name, possesses most of his 
qualifications. How quiet is its appeal, what a feeling of 
acquaintance and sympathy is awakened by a glance at its 
head, expressive to us even without manipulation. "What a 
conversational tone the mind assumes, as we read the 
editorial ; questioning and anon assenting ; our eyebrows 
rising at novelty ; our head nodding with complacent wisdom 
at " our sentiments better expressed." When we turn to the 
Items, what images of the bustling outer world — of the jost- 
ling throng " down town," — what a lively sense of the 
innumerable interests, independent of our interests, and the 
infinite variety of thoughts different from our thoughts rise 
in succession before us ; enlivening, softening, humanizing us 
as we read. Who can sit enfolded in rayless egotism that 
reads a good newspaper ? Who dares be self-righteous. 



THE NEWSPAPER. 13 



hard-hearted, bigoted, censorious — that looks daily into the 
great camera of human life ? 

We fcalk of telegraphic wonders ; but the greatest of all is 
the newspaper, opened at the same moment, by thousands, 
and, 

Striking the electric chain wherewith we're darkly bound, 

filling them all, on the instant, with the self-same thought. 
Men are more brotherly than they know of, while they read 
the papers. Their hearts beat for the time in unison, momen- 
tarily withdrawn from the oppugnant attitude of competition, 
and confessing, salutarily, even though unconsciously, the 
pleasure of sympathy. How beautiful a comment on the 
humane office of a newspaper is the fact, that not one of any 
credit ever makes an appeal to the charities of its readers in 
behalf any case of suffering, without having occasion to sig- 
nify, in the very nest issue, that the call has been answered. 

Prosperity can never harden the heart of him who reads 
the newspaper aright ; nor can fancied goodness make him 
judge others severely, or a sense of intellectual superiority 
inspire him with contempt for the less gifted. There is per- 
haps no surer or pleasanter way of acquiring self-knowledge, 
and that patient kindliness which is its sure companion, than 
by acquainting ourselves largely with the hopes, fears, wants, 
devices, errors and disappointments of other men. The inner 
voice whispers — " even such am I ! —subject to all this — capa- 
ble of all — hoping, fearing, and wishing thus !" a most health- 
ful suggestion to every human heart. 

We have thus far been speaking impartially and from simple 
experience ; a word or two on a weekly paper will but vindi- 
cate our candor. The ideal of a paper that comes to us but 



14 



THE RAG-BAG. 



once a week, has a nearer and more personal interest. Prom- 
inent on this is — not so much the vivid picture of busy, strug- 
gling life, aa what our friends and counsellors, the editqrs, think 
of this life. The passing scene is not allowed to phototype 
itself indiscriminately, with all the blurs and grotesque distor- 
tions that even sunshine, undisciplined, is prone to make ; but 
chosen and arranged — composed — shown up in artistic bits 
" by the best masters ;" commended to us by the stamp of 
taste ; exhibiting Nature indeed, but Nature as seen through 
eyes specially endowed. The feeling that all these good and 
pleasant things have been secretly preparing for us during the 
whole week is present, and present for good, as we gently unfold 
the sheet of which we know no corner is vacant of interest, 
lere curiosity has been satiated in the daily report of ordi- 
nary news ; it has little. part in the haste with which we seize 
on our favorite weekly. But why do we say our favorite ? 
These things are matter of affinity rather than of choice. 
There are people born to read the Home Journal, to 
vvhom it goes as naturally as dew to the flower ; and it is for 
these natural readers of ours that we have ventured to give 
form to our private revery on newspapers in general. 



THREE DAYS IN THE COUNTRY. 



Will the reader pardon us, if, from our mental snuff-box, 
we offer him a pinch of idleness 7 Of three days in the coun- 
try, during which we have scarce remembered the possibility 
of a town or a paragraph, we should like to share the little-or- 
nothings. It has doubtless been a stimulus to our brain — as 
the mill goes faster and makes more noise when there is no 
grist in the hopper — and we may make fly the adjectives and 
pronouns to little purpose or profit ; but you love us enough 
(we are bent on believing) to be pleased now and then if we 
but talk of what pleases us. It were less egotistical, we well 
know, and certainly more pointed and pungent, to give you 

but the thorns from our path of briars ; but, on every shrub 

15 



16 THE RAG-BAG. 



that can harm us, there grows a flower as well ; and we must 
be pardoned if we loiter to pluck it, and if we talk of its sweet- 
ness afterwards — though what we distil from our roses only, may 
be too much of an oito-biography. 

We left town on as lovely a June afternoon as ever sat to 
a poet for its picture, and were shaken like a pepper-castor 
over the railway to Cold Spring, spicing the road, perhaps, 
with the cares we went dropping behind us. " Undercliff," 
whither we were making our " pilgrim's progress," is a half 
mile of ascent from the Station, and with thoughts divided 
between Morris waiting dinner for us and " Christian released 
from his burthen," we took the cross-path over the fields — 
then and there, of course, though fifty miles from town, get- 
ting first free of the atmosphere of smoke and cinders, and 
inhaling the first breath of the clover-laden air of the country. 
Is there no way to ventilate rail-cars 1 How long will the 
lungs of passengers serve as chimneys to locomotives % 

The virgin day, newly wedded to the sun, was beginning 
to blush at his descent to his repose, when we came within the 
murmur of a fountain, and saw Morris (our partner) sitting 
under the new-gloved fingers of a hemlock. It was as little 
like 107 Fulton street as could well be imagined — no ledgers 
nor brown envelopes, no poets nor puff seekers, no twine-balls 
nor paste-pots, no pile of letters to answer, and no printers 
with proofs. It was as green and tranquil as Eden before a 
newspaper was thought of, though the gold-fish under the 
eternal " droppings in" of the troubled basin in which they 
swam, were unconscious types of the profession of their mas- 
ter. We turned and looked around, and oh how beautiful 
seemed the scenery of the Highlands ! What short memories 



THREE DAYS IN THE COUNTRY. 17 

have even the most loving eyes, and with what bran-new sur- 
prises of impression do we return to scenes with which we 
have been familiar ! Trees grow while one is absent, too, and 
there is new weather every day, and thus it is — though there 
is probably some deeper law of Providence to account for it 
— external Nature never grows stale or weary. It seemed 
to us that we had never seen the Highlands of West Point 
(that bow-knot of the ribbon of mountains that festoons the 
State of New- York) look half so ench^ntingly beautiful. 

We dined, and idled, and talked of what the full moon over 
our heads could safely be privy to, and went to bed for a 
country sleep — and solid it was ! How different is the slum- 
ber on Nature's bosom where it is not paved over ! One's 
dreams and pulses seem to keep time to the growing grass. 
We should reform, perhaps, the manners of Morris's cocks 
and hens, that are as noisy as if all the world must get up 
to love and go worm-ing when they do — but even when thus 
disturbed into seeing the sun rise, what a delicious appendix 
to the night's sleep is the country drowse, with open 
windows, till breakfast ! The " industry in morning air," 
by the way, which was preached to us when we were more of 
a chicken, we were never poultry enough to comprehend. Our 
worms are not above ground, so early. 

A blessed day of summer, without news or other nuisance 
— everything to enjoy and nothing to chronicle ! In a long 
drive which we took in the forenoon, Morris stopped at a kiln 
to inquire the price of bricks. Bricks are high — five dollars 
and a half a thousand, but they have been up to six, and 
down to two and a half, and " there's no knowing." So said 



18 THE RAG-BAG. 



the man in the red shirt, and we thanked Heaven that this 
was the day's most stirring topic "from without." 

Cold Spring is most felicitously situated, as to river and 
mountains, but, of this, the traveller on steamboat and rail- 
car gets no idea in passing. The difference between looking 
at a place from a distance, and looking at the distance from a 
place, is as considerable as the difference between fame and 
scandal. Our friend's portico at Undercliff is on the instep 
of a mountain's foot, aro^md which the Hudson makes a half- 
circle, and his views up stream beyond Newburgh, and down 
stream below West Point, and over the lake like waters which 
widen between him and Oro'-nest, are probably the three finest 
on the whole shore of the river. An excursion to Cold Spring, 
and an ascent of the mountain side in the rear of Undercliff, 
would be worth your while. 

But this stubbed pen is getting to look drudge-y, and we 
vowed to call upon its nib for nothing but idleness. Less 
tendrils and more fruit at another time, dear reader ! Pardon 
us this helping of ourself to a holiday, and believe us, now 
that we are back again. 



GENTLEMEN'S SONS IN NEW-YOBK. 



If our wealthy citizens, in matters of private life, do not 
know, (in the best sense of the phrase,) " what is good for 
them," they usually know, (in the worst sense of the phrase,) 
"what is for their interest." "We wish to speak of one excep- 
tion, even to this latter prevalence of instinct. 

There are two things, besides fortune, which a man may 

give to his son — the figure to grace it, and the health to enjoy 

it. There are two things a man must leave to his son with a 

fortune — envy that will delight in any physical unfitness for it, 

and temptation that will take great advantage both of an unin- 

stilled valuation of health and of the weak purpose which 

accompanies debility. Now, as the two additions, that may 

be left with a fortune may correct the two drawbacks that 

19 



20 THE RAG-BAG. 



must be left with it, one would suppose that a careful parent, 
(not to say a kind one,) would look after these, among other 

risks and provisions — would as soon, that is to say, leave pro- 

» 

perty without a key or an insurance, as leave it without the 
health and manliness which can alone secure its appropriation 
and preserve its value. 

A young Englishman taking a walk, in Broadway, with the 
son of an American to whom he has brought a letter, is an 
every day spectacle — yet a spectacle which would, in most 
cases, answer for a picture of a healthy man taking a walk 
with an invalid. The frame of one is fully developed, his 
chest is broad, his step firm, his look that of a man who could 
enjoy anything or defend himself from any intrusion upon his 
rights. The other is pale, flat and narrow-chested, undersized, 
weak limbed, and looks like a man who could neither eat 
with a healthy appetite, nor hold his own with any moderate- 
sized man who should assail him. The average height of the 
wealthy young men of New- York perceptibly dwindles with 
the number of the same family through whom the property 
has descended — a man who had a rich grandfather being 
smaller, usually, than one who had only a rich father. In 
England, as is well known, it is just the contrary ; — the bet- 
ter descended a man is, the more care has been taken, 
commonly, of his boyish health, and manly exercises, and the 
better developed his system and figure. English gentle- 
men are taller and healthier than English working-men. 
American gentlemen are diminutive and feeble-looking in com- 
parison with American mechanics and farmers. The difference 
between the two countries, as to the pleasure of leaving a for- 
tune, is easily estimated, therefore, for it is the difference 



GENTLEMEN'S SONS IN NEW-YOKK. 21 



between a long and healthy gratitude, and a short and dis- 
eased one. 

There is almost no excuse for a Wealthy man whose sons 
are unhealthy, or undeveloped in manly proportions. The 
means of protecting children against neglect or mismanagement 
are easy to the rich. Judicious care can be hired, if the 
parents are too busy to give it themselves, and seclusion and 
discipline are more practicable in large houses than in small 
ones. But Nature has seldom left us at the mercy of first 
errors. Health. can be redeemed after long trifling and abuse. 
At five years of age, at ten, twenty, thirty — any time before 
the rallying forces have entirely given way — we can have 
health ; and, if the compulsion to reform comes early enough, 
we can once more put into progress the manly development 
whicn self-indulgence has arrested. 



THE PEIZE EIGHT, 



AND ITS UNDERCURRENT AND BEARINGS 



That the seed of the late prize fight struck into the ground, 
and is fully and fairly germinating, may be seen, now, at the 
letting out of any school in the city — the boys squaring off 
and taking the attitude of Tom Hyer's portrait in the shop 
windows, as soon as they can swing the satchel over the shoul- 
der. It would be absurd to pass over as a trifle, an event 
which could produce such excitement as this pugilistic duel 
has done. We do not believe that a mere prize fight would 
have made such a stir except as ministering to a latent appe. 
tite in the public mind ; nor do we believe that the same event 
would have attracted one tenth part of the notice, if it had 

22 



THE PRIZE EIGHT. 2 3 



happened before the country was impregnated with fight by 
the Mexican war. As a seed, then, dropped into the ground 
beneath our feet for which the soil was ready, and of which 
we are likely to see the product hereafter, let us look a little 
into the uses and abuses of corporeal emulation and antag- 
onism. 

America could doubtless afford at some cost of order and 
staid propriety to purchase an enthusiasm for physical cul- 
ture and masculine vigor and beauty. It is an excellence so 
especially neglected in our health-impairing and devoted atten- 
tion to business, that Americans would be truly described as 
a hollow-chested, narrow-shouldered, ill developed look- 
ing race. On the eye of a traveller, returning here from 
other countries, (from England especially,) the ill-assured gait 
and flimsy and unmanly figures of our men, produce even a 
painful impression. A straight back, and well-carried chest 
and shoulders, single out a gentleman in Broadway, at oncei 
as a foreigner or a~military man. Beauty of masculine figure 
and carriage, indeed, seems to be not only unappreciated but 
hardly recognized ; for in those who have the reputation of 
being " the handsome men about town," the beauty consists 
in fine eyes and complexion and good features — such deform- 
ities as big hips and narrow shoulders, round back and knock- 
knees being no abatements to the general admiration of a hand- 
some face. 

A national distaste for manly exercises continuing through 
three or four generations, must inevitably bring about a 
national dioindle in physical proportions — of which, we are 
compelled to say, we see the first stages in the present gen- 
eral appearance of American young men. We think this 



24 



THE RAG-BAG. 






more of a prospective evil than it is commonly thought to be, 
for, with our country's star so rapidly on the ascendant, we 
are soon likely to challenge the whole world's scrutiny and 
competition ; and contempt for miserable inferiority of appear- 
ance would essentially qualify the largest assent given to 
our superiority in trade and cannonading. The intensity of 
purpose and sleepless alacrity of contrivance and execution, 
to which we have owed our advantages in commerce and war- 
fare hitherto, are national qualities which triumphed in spite 
of physical inferiority; (even the Mexicans beiug a much more 
able-bodied and healthy race;) but physical culture, without 
diminishing these triumphs, would affect many future strug- I 
gles of national competition in other fields, and, at least, (and 
this every one, with any national pride must feel,) grace our 
possible and probable national supremacy. 

Boxing is not necessarily the leading shape of physical emu- 
lation. In Sparta, the most manly of ancient nations, the 
greatest reproach was the expression, " he can neither swim 
nor write ;" and, (by-the-way, ladies !) the Spartan women 
were often competitors at the races in the water, which were 
the emulous exercises of their warlike husbands and brothers. 
The wisest philosophers and most renowned statesmen of 
Athens made the gymnasium the place of daily resort — ming- 
ling their oratory and their most abstruse discussions, with 
the contests for bodily pre-eminence which occupied the curi- 
osity and interest of the whole people. The love of the beau- 
tiful was considered by the Greeks as an essentially prevalent 
quality in the greatness of a nation ; and the gymnasium 
was sustained as the school of this principle —the halls for its 
different exercises ornamented with statues, and the study of 



THE PRIZE FIGHT. 



25 



the finest living forms, when stripped for exercise, being the 
daily amusement and relaxation of the crowds with which min- 
gled Plato and Aristotle. Boxing, in these schools of health 
and beauty, was the kind of contention least practised. The 
same antagonism expressed itself with the same avidity 
in hurling, leaping, foot-racing, wrestling, and dancing the 
Pyrrhic dance. 

The manners of any particular time indicate, of course, what 
kind of bodily skill should be acquired to insure against insult 
or humiliating comparison. The " Art of defending oneself 
against a sword with a pewter pot" is the title of an Essay 
appended to a work on Fencing, which was published a cen- 
tury ago, in Flanders — the frequentation of beer-shops, in 
those days of swords and daggers, making such an expertness 
necessary. Skill at fighting with a short knife was acquired 
by young men in Holland in the turbulent middle ages. To 
handle a quarter-staff was a useful accomplishment to a man 
in one period of Eoglish history. "Whether the United States 
at the present day, are so purely intellectual in their standards 
of conduct and society, that the principles of self preservation 
and dignity make no call on the bodily strength and conscious 
power of resistance, is a question, to say the least, worth the 
asking. 

The details of the late prize fight between Hyer and Sulli- 
van, are, of course, revolting, and' to such exhibitions, the law 
should do its best to oppose its authority. It was an excess, 
however, like that of the occasional running of a horse to death ; 
which does not diminish the value of the animal culture from 
which it springs. Even in this fight we have no hesitation in 
saying we felt an irrepressible interest. We had often seen 
2 



26 THE RAG-BAG. 



Hyer in the street, and had exceedingly admired the remarkable 
grace and beauty of his form, and his calm and resolute but 
perfectly modest expression of countenance and demeanor. 
Sullivan is a coarse representative of the domineering physical 
superiority of that class of British which is most added to our 
people by immigration ; and the encounter seemed, to us, an 
nnhappy but still unavoidable contest between English brute 
force encroaching, and American litheness and spirit resisting. 
The broadsword of Coeur de Lion and the scimitar of Saladin 
represented something the same antagonism ; and in the com- 
ing struggle (not far off we venture to say,) in which England 
and America will enter the ring for the championship of the 
world, we trust Tom Hyer's will have been a foreshadowing 
victory. 
" Lightning knocked down churches, till Franklin moderated 
its stroke, and Morse put it into harness for useful purposes ; 
and so, we believe, in any dangerous feeling that can electrify 
a whole community, there is hidden a principle of Nature that 
can be turned to account. Certain it is, at least, that all the 
editorial preaching in the world will not put to sleep the 
human pugnacity awakened throughout this country by 
the successes of the Mexican war; and — since there is a 
national deficiency, physical neglect, which stands ready, like 
load and harness to be removed by any activity which must 
have play — it seems to us that, to divert and occupy the prin- 
ciple, is better than to stigmatize and let it work only in 
stealthy excesses. Americans, (if we may add another bearing 
of the matter,) are a desperately indomitable people that would 
resort to knife and pistol rather than be kept under by the stron- 
ger arm of foreigners ; and with the constant influx of broad- 






THE PRIZE EIGHT. 27 

chested Germans and pugilistic English and Irish, the blood- 
less management of elections and of the many popular com- 
motions in which national prejudices take sides, must depend 
on a certain equality of physical power— -foreigners, at present, 
having greatly the advantage. 



THE ARTICLE "YOUTH" AT NEW-YORK. 






The comparative value of this perishable commodity, at 
Paris or at New-York, is a matter of necessary knowledge 
which we might have expected to see dwelt upon before now. 
As far as we know, however, this important statistic has been 
overlooked till within a few days ; and each young man, there, 
fore, has been obliged to decide, by chance information or 
instinct, whether to invest his stock of adolescence in Broad- 
way or the Boulevards. A very amusing and well written 
article on the subject appears in the Courrier des JEtats- Unis 
of Thursday last, written by Th. Lacombe, the able contribu- 
tor to that paper. We would translate it, if we had any manner 
of leisure — possibly we shall do so when novelties slacken a lit- 
tle with the summer solstice — but as our class of readers have 

2fi 



THE AKTICLE "YOUTH" IN NEW-YORK. 



29 



charming minds of their own, and can understand a matter as 
well by suggestion as by amplification, we will simply name a 
point or two of Mons. Lacombe's two column analysis, and 
so fulfil the chief object of the Home Journal, which is to keep 
subscribers promptly supplied with the knowledge to live by. 

They have a phrase in Paris — la jeunesse doree — which we 
have no equivalent expression for, in English, but which means 
young dandies with plenty of money. Often boys born with 
a natural banker — (a papa that instinctively furnishes funds) 
— five at least in Paris, take up the life of la jeunesse doree, 
supremely happy to have nothing to do but wake, dress, break- 
fast, and push discoveries as to what can be had for their two 
superfluities of youth and money. Most of these ruin them- 
selves, and worse-ify in various ways — some become satiated, 
and take to virtue for a change — and some, after quite exhaust- 
ing pleasure, but still holding on to a corner of the pocket, 
make a marriage of moderate expectations, and taper off to 
one end of a fishing line in the country. 

What astonishes this French writer is, that there should 
exist, also, a jeunesse doree at New- York. Here, where work 
is the only pleasure for which there are any tolerable accommo- 
dations — where King Public decrees idleness to be a proof 
of imbecility — where fathers who know not what to do with 
the crops they have already harvested, still feel it their duty to 
put their sons into the furrow — here, also, there are dandies in 
idleness ! They are few. They last but a summer or so — 
" go into a store" or go to Paris — but, still, every present hour 
has its specimens, and Broadway, on any sunshiny day, 
'twixt twelve and three, when workies are in Wall street, 
shows its dozen or more of perambulating Fifth- Ave- noodles. 



30 THE RAG-BAG. 



How they contrive to amuse themselves for the twenty-four 
hours is an unsolved problem to the writer we quote from. 

Mons. Lacombe's description of the New-York dandy is 
exceedingly graphic. He should have published it in a French 
" Lorgnette," with a portrait. Like, as dandies are supposed 
to be, all over the world, there are some indigenous points about 
the American biped of this family. His two greatest ambi- 
tions are to show a mustache, and be known among the ladies 
as a " dangerous man." To attain the latter reputation, he 
relies on appearances — choosing his opportunity, for instance 
to seat himself with a certain air by the side of a lady at the 
Opera, and leaning to her ear with a look of intense sentiment 
and conscious irresistibleness, to murmur inaudibly to all but 
herself, " how do you do ?" in the better expressed language 
of the writer: — " On a vu son attitude penchee et minaudiere, 
c'est tout ce qiCil luifaut; car d'apres les regies strategiques d'une 
gattanterie surannee^ une femme compromise est une bataile 
gagnee." 

The toilette of the New- York dandy is described by Mons. 
Lacombe as truly irreproachable. His pantaloons are so dili- 
gently renewed that knee-marks never protuberate. His gloves 
look like primroses, new-blown with thumb and fingers. His 
head, smooth from the curling-tongs, sits in his collar like a 
marigold in a paper holder. The tie of his cravat, so broad and 
so long, is a marvel of untumbled dexterity. With his hat 
at the angle agreed upon by his set, booted like the model 
foot in the show-case of the maker, laced, and with a violet in 
his button-hole, he walks Broadway like a machine moved by 
single action, and, if he looks at you at all, does it with 



THE ARTICLE "YOUTH" IN NEW- YORK. gj 

an expression of " Vulgarian ! keep on the other side of the 
walk !" (" Prends le has, du pave manant /") 

At his Club, at the Opera, at balls and in Broadway, the 
New-York dandy is pacha. He is not, in fact, a dangerous 
member of society — the " business" fathers and husbands of 
New-York have cyphered up the fact that " appearances" con- 
tent him. Some intelligence and certain powers of conversa- 
tion are necessary in fact, to keep up the illusions that are risky 
to those who " at least will flirt" — but the intelligence and 
conversation of the Fifth- Ave-Nooclle are confined to topics 
soon exhausted. He knows that Cellarius invented the polka, 
and that Saracco is his prophet — that Derby and Corraz 
cut a coat authentically — that Mantel, Taylor and Lenoir make 
beautiful bouquets, and that A&ia Minor and East Broadway 
are portions of the planet we live on — but other knowledge 
comes by accident, if at all, and is left to bald-heads and those 
who are willing to be bored with it. 

Mons. Lecompte sketches the autocrat- domination of the 
boy-dandies at balls, and philosophizes over the impression 
among ladies, as to these blank cartridges of the ammunition 
directed against their hearts — but we have put the reader in 
train, and the subject will be followed up and well-sifted by 
tea-table and tete-a-tete. 



ON PUBLISHING- A HOUSE. 

Moral of furniture — Servile copying of neighbors in 
America — Heart-work and affectionate taste done by 
uphosterers and cabinet-makers english aim in furnish- 
ING — "Vulgarity of newness — Chairs suited to individuals 

dlsrespectfulness of easy seats taken by slight 

acquaintances preserved nucleus of old furniture 

English look-out for choice articles to express affec- 
tion — Careful location of articles in a drawing-room, 
to produce variety and a look of unceremoniousness — 
The wife's corner — Place for tete-a-tete — Pictures — 
Value of home associations — Duty of poets and preach- 
ers as to culture of home attachments, etc. 

As distinctness, in the image of HOME, sweetens the mem- 
ory of it, and makes its hallowed associations more easy of 
recall, it may serve the cause of " household affections," as 
well as of good taste, to inquire what is the farthest reach of 
civilization in the refinement of furniture. 

32 



ON FURNISHING A HOUSE. 



33 



While in England, as every traveller knows, no two draw- 
ing-rooms look alike, the twenty thousand drawing-rooms of 
New- York are all stereotyped copies, of one out of three or 
four styles — the style dependent only on the degree of expen- 
siveness. The orders, first and final, for furnishing an Ameri- 
can house, can be given in a morning, and it is usually 
completed (in the way it is to stand till the proprietor's 
circumstances change) in the course of a week. The cabinet- 
maker chooses where the sofas, chairs and tables are to stand. 
The gilder selects the places for the looking-glasses. The 
upholsterer arranges the curtains. The piano is set against 
the wall by the seller of it, and there it stays. The chairs are 
in sets, and the maker of them decides how many of a kind 
are wanted. The proprietor of almost any house in New- York, 
might wake up in thousands of other houses, and not recog- 
nize for a half hour, that he was not at home. He would sit 
on just such a sofa in just such a recess — see a piano just so 
placed — just as many chairs in identically the same positions 
— and nothing but perhaps a little difference in the figure of 
the carpet, the absence of a flaw in the ceiling, or the want 
of the spot on the wall where his head leans in napping after 
dinner, to assure him of his " alibi." 

In the land where the word " home " was invented, whose 
language alone possesses it, and whose children are held, by 
its bond to their family duties and attachments with a strength 
that is proverbial — in England — the furnishing of a drawing- 
room is a very different matter. The show-rooms of the very 
wealthy, of course, we do not include in the picture we are 
about to draw. These are furnished, however, not by the 
taste of an upholsterer and cabinet-maker, but after some style 
2* 



34 



THE RAG-BAG. 



authenticated in a work of art, or after the long submitted 
and carefully approved design of an educated person whose 
profession it is. We speak not of these however. We wish 
to show only how the " homes" of England are furnished — 
such as are occupied by the classes whose incomes are from 
two thousand to ten thousand dollars. 

The feature most carefully avoided, in an English house, is 
any general look of newness — the raw aspect of new furniture 
being repulsively associated in their minds, with people of low 
origin, to whom no belongings of a home have descended and 
who have suddenly become rich.* On the contrary, of course, 
the most valued things in a house are those old and scarce perish- 
able articles, made of the solid wood (without the aid of 
" veneering,") which are mixed up with the more modern fur- 
niture and bespeak a keeping up of the old family associations. 
Few respectable persons commence housekeeping without 
some old furniture which has been carefully laid away for the 
purpose or presented by relatives ; and the aim, in adding to it, 
is to find that which most accords with it. Ear from being in 
a hurry about these new purchases, they prolong the hunt after 
what they want, as a pleasure which will end too soon. 
They never dream of going to a vast warehouse of cabinet- 
making or upholstery, and finding all they want, in a day. 
The shape and size of the rooms are carefully studied, and one 
article is found and purchased at a time — its ornament and 

* Maelt, in Ann-street, who buys and stores away all things old, odd, 
and rococo, would be more visited for objects wherewith to furnish a 
home, by an Englishman of taste, than all the cabinet warehouses in 
New- York put together— one-fifth of the price of new articles as his 
more valuable old articles sometimes are. 



ON FURNISHING A HOUSE. 35 

uses studied with care, and with a conscious remembrance that 
it is to be one of the associations of a centre of affection, and 
sacredly to increase in value as portion of a home. No two 
chairs in a refined English drawing-room are designedly alike. 
They are usually bought, first, separately, and to suit the 
wants of the different members of the family. Affection is 
always on the look-out to find some luxury that will contribute 
especially to the comfort of one or another. There is no chair 
in a drawing-room that has not some specific association, 
or is not intended for the humoring of some particular mood, 
or degree of weariness, or, indeed, the selection of which, by a 
visitor, does not partially designate his degree of intimacy. 
"What ceremonious morning-caller, for example, could select 
a seat like an American rocking-chair, and throw himself back 
as he conversed, without an air of disrespectful freedom 
which he would have avoided by taking one in which his pos- 
ture would be less indolently easy? 

In America we try only to imitate our neighbors in these 
matters; but, in England, there is an habitual look-out, by the 
provider for a home, to find articles which will make his draw- 
ing-room look unlike other people's. Carpets, curtains, and 
candles are the only things he wants new. The corner in 
which the wife habitually sits, has her chair exactly suited to 
her, her work-table, her flower-stand, her book-rack and writ- 
ing-desk, and there are other corners arranged luxuriously 
for two, and more trifles and articles of taste, around, than you 
would get familiar with in a month's visit to the family. The 
easy-chairs are plenty, varied in shape and capacious. The 
mirrors are set with reference to the light, or with some artis- 
tic design to break up the monotony of the room's proportions. 



36 THE RAG-BAG. 



The rectangular sameness, so universal in American houses, 
is corrected by interruption of the lines with furniture — and, 
in fact, the combination and arrangement of the moveable arti- 
cles in the rooms, are matters of common discussion and a 
delightful exercise of taste. Pictures are grouped with nice 
study of light and neighborhood. An air of carelessness is 
intentionally given to cushions and things which are thrown 
about, and the effort is to make the pla*ce look unrestrained and 
habitable, to get rid of all appearance of formal emptiness and 
scantiness, and to so fill it, with pleasant objects, that the eye 
will return to it with delight, and that the heart will gladden 
in it as the peculiar and enchanting scenery of home-affec- 
tions. 

That our plastic and rapidly maturing country would be 
bettered by a more careful culture of home associations, all 
must feel who see the facility with which families break up, 
the readiness with which housekeepers " sell out and furnish 
new all over," and the rareness of " old homesteads" — to which 
the long absent can joyfully return, and of which the memory 
has kept up hope, self-respect, and affectionate emulation, 
while away. It is one of those cultures for which poetry and 
the pulpit might improvingly and patriotically join, for its 
popularization and promotion. 



BAENUM'S PEIZE, 

(OF $200 FOR THE BEST " WELCOME SONG" TO JENNY LIND.) 



The Editor of the '■'■Morning Star" in a gay article, men- 
tions the two Editors of this paper as leading competitors for 
the above prize. As one of the two, (the one who does not 
write this paragraph,) is the acknowledged best song- writer of 
our country, and as his avowed competition might prevent 
some one, less assured by success, from trying his modest wing, 
it is proper, perhaps, to correct the error of our polite neigh- 
bor, and say definitely that neither Morris nor his partner 
will be among the competitors. 

But, let us express our respect for this class of composition, 
while the above disclaimer will serve us for a text. Of all the 
shapes of the poetic faculty, we think there is none to which 
the " nascitur non fit" is so applicable. The song-writer, 

37 



38 



THE RAG-BAG. 



more than any other sort of poet, must be a lorn poet. Like 
the distinction between the sublime and the ridiculous, the 
difference between the best song and the worst is a wall that 
only inspired masonry can build, and where pathos ends, anc 
laughter begins is a line that can be drawn by Nature only. 
It is not altogether an inspiration of the Fancy either. The 
head alone may write other poetry, perhaps, but the heart 
must have been there, when a good song was written. Un- 
less there was a choke in the throat and a moisture in the eye 
when a line was first murmured, it will never move the listener 
when sung. 

Of course there are accidental combinations that help to 
make a song- writer. Many a man could conceive one, for in- 
stance, who lacks the musical ear to put it together. A tact 
at using brevity without impairing the clear outline of the 
meaning, is necessary also, and so is clear common sense to 
reject all that has not a truth under it. But there is one 
quality more, without which good songs could scarce be 
written, and though we have always recognized it with admi- 
ration where it existed, we scarce know how to define it. We 
refer to that separation of progress, by which a man who has 
risen to think with the few, continues to feel ivith the many. 
To borrow an illustration from our military partner, the mind 
is promoted, but the heart is left in the ranks. Many a man 
of genius both thinks and feels, out of reach of the majority 
of his fellow creatures. Shelley did so — Shakspeare did not, 
Burns did not, nor Campbell, nor Moore. It is as creditable 
and admirable in common life as in song-writing, we may as 
well add,, however. Keeping the heart akin to the every day 
sympathies of the mass, is as unusual amid wealth and honors, 



BARNUM'S PRIZE. 39 



as amid the cold elevations of the intellect, and equally shows 
noble affectionateness of nature. 

"We are running into an essay when we intended only to 
write a paragraph. Let us close with a commendation of the 
theme proposed by the liberal offerer of the prize. Jenny 
Lind has led the life of an angel on earth, and. for her purity 
and munificent charities, she deserves an angel's welcome, 
while she has the lesser claims of an unrivalled songstress and 
a woman of indomitable energy and uninterrupted loftinesss of 
spirit. In the path of life most thickly strewn with temptations, 
and in the career of fame most thronged with the petty and 
degrading passions, she has pursued her way with steady and 
unobtrusive innocence, yet with wonderful highmindedness and 
strength of purpose. That so pure and great a spirit should 
come out of the Nazareth of her profession, is, we hope, a pro- 
phetic advent of a higher standard, of character and estimation, 
for the gifted in drama and song. 



SOCIETY, LATELY. 



"With the coming in of February, there was a large transit 
of our fashionable planets to the meridian of Washington — 
an annual submission to a new relative standard which corre- 
sponds to the annual appeal to another Court of Fashion, 
made by the trips of Londoners to Paris. It will instruct 
the reader, by-the-by, to be made fully aware of the propriety 
of the astronomical similitude we have just used, and of the 
correspondence betweeu the movements of the angels of 
up-town, and the " celestial bodies" over our heads. Thus 
speaks Astronomy of the " trips to "Washington" which take 
place in the starry firmament : — " Transit is the culmination 
or passage of a celestial object across the meridian of any 
place. The determination of the exact time of such transits 
is one of the most important operations of practical astronomy, 

as it is by this means that the differences of right ascensions 

(40) 



SOCIETY, LATELY. 41 



and consequently the relative situations of the fixed stars, and 
• the motions of the planets and comets in respect of the celestial 
meridians, become known." The February trip to "Washing- 
ton, indeed, is of importance enough to have a distinctive 
name ; and as there is a phrase in astronomy which exactly 
defines it, let us quote once more from the Dictionary of 
Science : — " Parallax ; a change of place or of aspect. The 
term is used in astronomy to denote the finding of the differ- 
ence between the apparent place of a celestial object and the 
true place." Now, when belles go to Washington to have 
new changes rung upon their beauty — distingues to be distin- 
guished anew — the elites to be again elected — and the wrongly 
eclipsed or chance-clouded to gain open orbit and brighter 
sky, we may say (as they say, " ruralizing up the river") 
parallax-ing at Washington. It is a phrase that has been 
even more widely wanted, in fact — for what is there to define 
the change of self- valuation and position with which a village- 
belle comes back after parallax-ing in the city — an unappreci- 
ated youth after parallax-ing away from home — a poet in man- 
uscript after parallax-ing in print. We respectfully propose 
the word for vulgar adoption. 

Going in to buy a pair of gloves yesterday, at Stewart's, 
we learned that there had been more " make ups" for Wash- 
ington this winter than ever before, and that the outlay upon 
laces, etc., had been far beyond all precedent. We learned from 
M. de Trobriand's article on " New-York Balls" also, that 
in jewels, this year for the first time, American ladies rival the 
sumptuousness of the titled dames of Europe, and this we 
hear abundantly confirmed by the charming prodigals them- 
selves. There is one difference, however, between the Ameri- 



42 THE RAG-BAG. 



can and European wear of costly jewels, which the courteous 
Baron very well knew, though he probably feared making 
some of bis friends out of love with their necklaces by men- 
tioning it : — costly jewels are the livery of dowagers. Partly 
because youth, beauty and wealth seldom come together — 
partly because it is those who have lived longest who inherit 
and accumulate most — partly because it is good taste for 
beauty to be " unadorned" — and partly because 'great costli- 
ness, except when excusably put on to redeem ugliness, is an 
offensive assumption of superiority over those whom chance 
has less gifted — for these combined reasons, it is, doubtless, 
that rich jewels in Europe, are seldom worn by the young, 
and aways convey an association of age. From a diamond neck- 
lace a man naturally looks up to find rouge and a " false front 1 ' 
— from a priceless bracelet to a dry elbow and non-undulating 
proportions. A young girl very expensively jewelled, would 
in London or Paris we venture to say, be universally taken, 
at first sight, for a vulgar heiress advertising what she expects 
from " the other party." A rose' or a japonica in her hair 
would " do more for her market," even in foreign fashion's 
high bazaar of matrimony, than one of the five thousand dol- 
lar bijou, which are as common in New-York, now, as pond- 
lilies at a village ball. How it is by the standards of poetry, 
righteousness and " good investment," we leave to easy 
inference. 

In the way of parties, there have been efforts to escape from 
the monotony of what M. de Trobriand describes as twenty- 
five-feet-front-and-take-off-your-things-in-the-third-story balls, 
and at one house, in particular, although " in a block," the 
effect was very Parisian. The ordinary capacity of the lower 



SOCIETY, LATELY. 43 



story, probably was three large rooms ; but three luxurious bou- 
doirs were added to these — two of them roofed, lined and otto- 
maned with fluted pink and white muslin, and the three bril- 
liantly lighted and capable of accommodating sixty or eighty 
causeurs — and the ensemble was a wilderness of wax candles 
extending through six rooms en suite. Probably a verandah 
and a spacious pantry were enlisted, but the pure tenting of 
muslin, the un-expostulating flowers, the costly statuary in the 
corners, and the atmosphere of violets throughout, gave it the 
look and air of a palace that had always been there. Taking 
the eye's word for it alone , you might have thought yourself 
in the Faubourg St. Germain, though we doubt whether, even in 
that foie gras of the world, the japonicas and other petits Hens 
would have been so many and costly. 

There have been two or three masquerade balls, one of 
which, given by a distinguished French family, is said to have 
been as brilliant and gay as only the French can make this class 
of entertainment. A droll gentleman friend of ours, who went 
as a " yaller-girl," gave us a grave account of sending for a 
French dress-maker, and of the difficulties and embarrassments 
she found in measuring and fitting him into his feminine dress, 
and we have " boned and potted," for future description in 
The Home Journal, this history of male experience in woman- 
linesses. 

Perhaps the most successful departure from routine, in the 
gayeties of the season, however, was the " tableaux 11 party given 
by the leader of the artistic and intellectual society of the city, 
Miss Lynch. With the taste - and knowledge of effect, brought 
to her aid by the artists who frequent her agreeable house, their 



44 THE KAG-BAG. 



own " bearded" personations and those of three or four singu- 
larly beautiful women, the effects were truly admirable. 

The dancing parties, receptions, etc., etc., go on as usual — 
abating a little, of course with the February lull, and (whether 
it is owing to the want of sleighing, by which frolic finds out- 
door vent, or owing to the thirst bred by the exhausting char- 
acter of the new dances, we do not know, but) we have 

received sundry communications complaining of the young 
men's drinking too freely at these highly juvenescent parties. 
It is enough, perhaps, thus to name it. 



WHAT IS UPON US. 

Paris coming over — The Westwardizing of the world's 
centre — The Jenny Lind epoch of artistic Migration 
— Franconi's troop — Circus-riders " in society" — Cerito 
— Camille Leroux — Fashionable Amphitheatre in 
Broadway — Coming of a new class of travellers and 
Idlers to New- York — Necessary Changes in Luxuries 
and Accommodations — Probable French Theatre, and 
formation of English and French society, etc., etc. 

Paris has been, for a century or two, the yolk of the world's 
egg of pleasure — fun, everywhere else, in comparison, very 
albuminous and outsidy — but New- York hereafter, may as 
well be spelt New-Yo^k, for Paris, or what makes Paris the 
world's golden centre, is positively coming here ! The truth is 
that the world is not a globe, as is erroneously represented, 
but an amphitheatre whose civilized radii have an irresistible 
declivity toward one centre — the 'point where money is spent 
most freely for pleasure. Paris has been that point, but 
Paris has grown economical. It is recognized, at this moment, 
that, in New- York, pockets are buttoned more loosely than at 
Paris — the declivity is this way — and the beginnings to slide 

45 



4G THE RAG-BAG. 



down are signal and instructive. Jenny Lind, the world's first 
singer ; beautiful Cerito, the world's first dancer ; St. Leon, 
her husband, a great violinist and dancer ; Catherine Hayes, 
the Queen of English Opera ; Simms Reeves, whom Jenny 
Lind calls the greatest living tenor, and with these two last, 
a whole English opera company — these and (more wonderful 
still) Franconi's troop — are to come over between this and the 
next season. Our friend of the " Albion" who gives us this 
news, adds that Tattersall's, in Broadway, is to be the site of 
a new and magnificent circus, and that four competitors are 
in the field to build a Concert-room for Jenny Lind — of pro- 
portions that will pay. 

One word as to Eranconi's — which will be, to New-York, 
mostly a " new institution." To think of it as a Circus is to 
get no idea of it. Eranconi's is an admiring recognition of 
bodily accomplishment by refined society. Perhaps the reader 
may remember a sketch of Camille Leroux the heroine of Eran- 
coni's, which we sent from Paris when last abroad. This 
beautiful girl is a fine scholar, an accomplished artist with her 
pencil, a sort of female Crichton — supporting her father's 
family by her wonderful feats of horse(wo)manship while she 
might grace any circles of society. The four or five gentlemen 
who rode in the ring with this lady, were dressed in military 
undress uniform, and had very much the air of princes who 
were honoring a subject public with an admission to their 
royal exercises. We had been taken to Franconi's by a lady 
of rank whom we had chanced to know in England, and it was 
to the confusion of previous standards that we saw one of 
these riders approach, (after showing his disregard of paper 
obstacles-on horseback,) and with a nonchalant twirl of his 



WHAT IS UPON US. 47 



whip, make the agreeable, between the acts, to the Lady in 
question. Sseing the dandies of the audience, meantime, 
paying very deferential homage to the fair Camille, and the 
other riders finding acquaintances among the comme il faut 
bonnets, we were led to make inquiries ; and found there was 
what was defined as " the more liberal portion of society," to 
which Nature's ticket of anything-to-admire was, at present a 
gentleman's passport. Pranconi's, in fact, was a good society 
matinee. We had driven there at three in the afternoon, and 
half the finest equipages of Paris were outside the door, and, 
the circus being well out in the Champs-Elysees, few were 
there who could not afford to come in vehicles. The exclu- 
sives, who-were present, crowded down to the benches closest 
to the ring, and the equestrians leaned from the saddle between 
their emulous achievements, and received applauses from the 
ladies " by process verbal." We were in Paris but three days, 
we should perhaps explain, and the new phase of manners 
we describe was spoken of as a fashionable epidemic ; but 
whether it became chronic, or passed off like other influenzas, 
we should like, 11010, to know. Franconi's is coming over — 
and to what grade of society it is to be individually an advent, 
is a question about which the two sides of the Harlem Rail- 
road may as well be occupying their antagonistic leisure. 

But, generally, as to the imminent Parisification of New- 
York : — There is a floating population of seekers of the world's 
pleasantest place, who, as it will appear to every connoisseur 
of European capitals, are very sure to follow the sweetest 
voices, most bewildering legs, best players, boldest riders, etc. 
These independent idlers, in turn, are sure to be followed by 
the best cooks, the prettiest glove-fitters, the most inspired mil- 



48 THE RAG-BAG, 



liners, the best portrait painters, the neatest equipages, the 
various lions as they qualify and need to roar, and the many 
ministers to taste and luxury who follow the garden of refine- 
ment on its " Westward course" — for whom Paris has been 
what Bagdad was, and for whom New- York is to be what 
Paris is. The true field of enterprize, we should say, at this 
moment, is to find out what Paris has which New- York wants 
— various kinds of shops, for instance large Cafes' and Restau- 
rateurs, luxurious lodging-houses, a good French Theatre, a 
sumptuous Opera-house with private boxes, and a public plea- 
sure-drive. These are necessities which will soon be supplied 
to this most profuse of capitals, and, when our Western Bag- 
dad-and-Paris shall be comfortable and luxurious for stran- 
gers, (as it is far enough from being at the present moment,) 
the different Embassies will find it worth their while to form 
each a nucleus of recognition at this capital — thus giving us an 
English society and a French society, the intersection of 
whose circles with those of our New- York fashion and intelli- 
gence will supply counterbalances, and give the cosmopolite 
and un-provincial tone to New- York which makes Paris 
enchanting. Will not our friend De Trobriand give us, in 
his agreeable Revue, a sketch of what New- York most wants, 
to expedite its overtaking of Paris in luxurious habitableness. 



UPPERMOST GOSSIP 



OCIETY BREAKERS AHEAD 



The present " talk," in England, of establishing ranks of 
nobility in Canada, with a Vice-Royal Court at Montreal, over 
which shall reign a member of the Royal family — the recent 
attempt* to exclude, from the privileges of a London Club, 
such American officers as had soiled their epaulettes by navi- 
gating cargoes of industry to the "World's Fair — and the issue, 
within the last few days, of an American Hand book op 
Heraldry, with the crests, pedigrees and arms of some of 
" our first families," and directions for crests, mottoes and 

* This motion was reconsidered, as we find by the following para- 
graph : — 

" Second Thoughts aiie Best. — The members of the Senior United 
Service Club have decided that all field officers, captains and command- 
ers, in the service of America or other foreign states, who may come to 
England on duty, or properly accredited to their own minister and am- 
bassador, shall be admitted honorary members of the club and entitled 
to all its privileges during their stay in England." 

3 (49) 



50 THE EAG-BAG. 



liveries — are three coincident symptoms which are among the 
news of the last fortnight, and which it is not visionary, there- 
fore, perhaps to speak of in the same paragraph. The " club" 
effort, to make Americans understand that trade is the spoil- 
ing of a gentleman, we spoke of in the last number of our pa- 
per. Let us say an explanatory word or so of the other two 
forecast shadows ; and, first, as to the preparations for en- 
throning Victoria's eldest boy on this side of the water : — 

The plan to " extend the broad belt of England in the tem- 
perate zone round the world," by a railroad through the Can- 
adas to the Pacific, is discussed at great length, in an expen- 
sive work of five hundred pages, with costly maps and illus- 
trations, recently published in London. It is called " Britain 
Eedeemed and Canada Preserved," and has been got up with 
too much labor, outlay and ability, not to have the Govern- 
ment pocket for its paymaster, and a G-overnment project for 
its aim. A few sentences from the book will explain its cur- 
rent of argument : — 

" We will now proceed to show the feasibility of a line of 
railway across the Canadas, joining the Atlantic and Pacific 
oceans ; the necessity of this, to retain the most important of 
our colonies, and to keep pace with the vast designs of the 
United States ; the possibility of a perfect incorporation of 
Canada with Great Britain, under the same laws, government, 
privileges, and with a fair amount of representation, as an im- 
portant integral part of this kingdom ; thus to preserve her, as 
with a less cramped and fatal policy we might still have pre- 
served the fealty and affections of the United States. 

" < Thus to extend the broad belt of England in the temper- 
ate zone around the world. All this is to be done, for we have 



UPPERMOST GOSSIP. 5^ 



the means oefore us ; the time has now arrived ; the necessity is 
urgent.' l China is our centre of attraction ; it is so to Russia ; 
it is so to America ; but toe alone have yet the game of the 
world in our hands'' 

1 Our grandest schemes' (at home) l are defunct and still- 
born railways, from anywhere to nowhere.' ' No trifling mea- 
sure will do there,' (in Canada.) ' Lose her, and you lose the 
world. By a generous and extended policy you can alone re- 
tain her.' ' People of England, awake P ' You possess every- 
thing. You act as if you had nothing.' ' Again we say, Peo- 
ple of England, awake / Preserve the Canadas as the means 
of salvation.' " 

" Look at the map and see if we are not stupidly obtuse in 
not securing- the incalculable benefits which the opportunity 
now offers to Great Britain ; and judge if it were not suicidal 
criminality, should we hesitate any longer to profit by this Cal- 
ifornia mania, and to assume the immediate lead and direction 
of the South Sea movement, thereby to attract those congre- 
gating interests to a British centre ?" 

" At the bare thought of so rapid and direct a channel be- 
twixt Europe and Asia, what pictures of certain prosperity 
and grandeur, enterprise and activity, crowd upon the mind, 
with a prospect of a wilderness peopled — a remote ocean con- 
verted to an immediate and familiar high road— and regions 
teeming with countless myriads, hitherto only reached by te- 
dious circumnavigation of the globe, brought to intimate con- 
nection, as it were, at our very door : pictures we cannot con- 
template without exclaiming, England, arouse ! Ministers^ 
awake /" 



52 THE RAG-BAG. 



The National Intelligencer, in which we find the first notice 
of this work, says : — 

" Frequent reference is made to Mr. Whitney's plan for the 
United States, which seems to have been the prompter of this 
movement in Great Britain. It is proposed to incorporate 
Canada with the domestic empire, to be a part of it as much 
as Wales, Scotland and Ireland, to be represented in Parlia- 
ment and in the nobility. Canada is to have the same rank 
and the same privileges as England, and a member of the royal 
family is to be at the head of the Canadian branch of the 
Government. 

" Twenty thousand convicts are to be put at once upon the 
road to work it ; the paupers of England are to be taken there 
and made useful. It is estimated that five millions of people 
can be spared from England, Scotland and Ireland, for the 
reciprocal benefit of all parties, to be planted along the line of 
this road, and that in this way, and in a short time, England 
may be entirely relieved of her pauperism, which now costs 
more than six millions sterling a year in parish rates, and thir- 
ty to forty millions in all forms of public and private charity. 
The estimates for the cost of the road are an average of five 
thousand pounds per mile, being fourteen million pounds for 
the whole work, and less than half the present annual cost of 
pauperism at home, the whole or chief part of which burden it 
is expected the execution of this plan will remove. This being 
so, as a system of public economy, it is beyond all example in 
the history of the world. It is averred that they have just 
that to spare of British population at home, which is wanted 
as material to build this road, and to constitute this extended 



UPPERMOST GOSSIP. 53 



line of settlement to the Pacific as a new branch of the empire, 
which, as is claimed, will regenerate Great Britain, cure all 
her maladies, relieve her of her burdens, and give her the 
command of the commerce of the world. It is a remarkable 
fact that the distance between England and China, by this 
contemplated railroad through Canada, is fifteen hundred 
miles shorter than the nearest route across the United States. 
It remains to be seen whether Great Britain or the United 
States will be first in this field, and which will win this great 
prize." 

Now, who does not see (with the rate at which things move, 
now-a-days) that " Lordships" and " Ladyships" may be as 
close upon us as grand- children and gray hairs ? "With what 
policy our Government has driven Whitney abroad with his 
project, and will let England build this highway of power, 
(unless to take it from her when it is done,) we do not clearly 
see, and have no idea of discussing. "We only (in our small 
way of suggesting gossip for the parlor) call attention to the 
waring advent of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, 
and begin to wonder at the effect, on New- York, of a Throne 
and Court, whose "Windsor will be at Niagara ! "Why, we 
may have a string of Parks, Manors and Castles along the 
other side of the St. Lawrence, and Honorable Misses looking 
across at the Vermont boys, before we know of it ! The first 
Peer, of course, will be the man who best fought the Yankees 
— the Earl of McNab — and, by way of enlisting allies in 
" The States," they will make a few " colored" Knights and 
Baronets, and invite Dumas, the mulatto novellist, to natural- 
ize and accept title and office at the Court of Canada. Our 
young ladies, in their summer-trips, will find the young Mar- 



54 THE RAG-BAG. 



quises and Viscounts sprinkled here and there, and liable to 
be fallen in with, in every steamboat and rail-car. Marriages 
will take place, and Yankee mammas will be heard talking of 
"my daughter, Lady Toronto," or "my daughter, the 
Countess of Thousand Isles." Society in New- York and Bos- 
ton will be arranging etiquettes for reception of the Northern 
Nobility, and deciding whether the daughters of wholesale 
and retail grocers should be equally presentable at the Court of 
Montreal. Descent of American families from foreign stock 
will of course be eagerly looked up — (though probably it will 
be a generally conceded etiquette that no escutcheon shall be 
affected by the causes of emigration.) And this brings us, 
(abruptly, perhaps, but we must leave these speculations to 
the ten thousand beloved tea-kettles whose vapor we assist to 
enliven) — this brings us to the New-York " Hand-book of 
Heraldry," which, of the forementioned changes and comings* 
about, is certainly a most apt and significant precursor ! 

Step into "Wiley's and see this volume ! It is the most 
equisite lfttle bijou of ornamental book-making that has ever 
been produced in America. The author, Gwilt Mapleson, is 
a finished artist in this line, and his illuminated pictures of the 
" Arms of Livingston," and crests of twenty or thirty other 
American families, are brilliant to see — in a Eepublic ! Even 
an Editor— one of our poor trade — has his crest emblazoned 
in this gay book — Win. T. Porter, three bells, two on sable 
and one on white ; also, one of our astists, W. T. Mount, a 
lion rampant on a mountain-top ; one of our poetesses's hus- 
band, D. Embury, a very complicated crest, which we are not 
scholar enough to explain ; Christie, (of the Minstrels, we pre- 
sume,) with three hats on a ground of white one of our best 



UPPERMOST GOSSIP. 55 



doctors, Sidney Doane, a rampant unicorn ] and most brilliantly- 
colored cresis of other names familiar to us, Lynch and 
McVickar, Grimm, Hone, Haggerty, Schermerhorn, Ward, 
Allen, Grymes, Taylor and Gray. These combined emblazon- 
ings form most brilliant pages of bright colors, and may- 
awaken a thirst for a study of heraldry as a gay bouquet stirs 
a sigh for more knowledge of horticulture. " Study" it will 
require, by the way — for who can understand, at first sight, 
such passages as these, which we extract at random from the 
New- York Hand-Book of Heraldry 

:< Single ladies and widows wear their arms in a lozenge, 
" the former having the paternal coat — with quarterings, if 
" there be any • a wido\^ joins her arms with those of her 
u late husband." 

" In plate III., fig. 8, will be found a maiden's lozenge ; in 
" the same plate, fig. II., that of a widow who has married a 
" cousin on the father's side ; consequently the arms impaled 
" on the sinister are the same as those on the dextee side." 

" The lozenge of a widow who is an heiress, may be found 
"in plate I., fig. 5." 

" A married woman, during her husband's lifetime, may 
" use, on her own seal, a shield with the arms of her husband's 
') family and her own engraved on it— but no crest." 

" In plate I., fig. 3, I have drawn the arms of a bachelor, 
" tricked, as is the heraldic term, with helmet, mantlings, crest 
" and motto." 

" In the same plate, fig. 1, may be seen the arms of a mar- 
" ried man, impaling those of his wife, party per pale, baron 
" and femme." 



56 THE KAG-BAG. 



a If her son married an heiress, by placing a shield of pre- 
sence on these quarterings, the descendants of that marriage 
" would be entitled to wear the arms of their mother's and 
" grandmother's family." 

" In fig. 5 of the same plate, is represented a widow's lozenge 
« — the widow being an heiress." 

Now, that learning like this should be published in a hand- 
look — ( a catechism or primer of pedigree-diness, as it were) — 
here in the very heart of the republic looks, (in the way of 
business at least) like a belief on the part of the publisher 
that the Americans are wanting to know the look of a ticket 
to aristocracy. It was a sagacious guess, we understand for 
the book " poes like hot cakes" — and the next thing, of 
course, will be the establishment of a Herald's college in New 
York, where any Yankee may apply to know whereabouts, 
in the light or dark ages, lived anybody of his name, and 
under what sign he did his loving and fighting. So enters 
the science of Heraldry into our midst ! — though, by the way, 
the origin of heraldry, as given in the old authors, reads very 
much as if we had it at our fingers' ends already, under the 
different name of puffing. Says a high authority : — 

" The word Mason, which denotes the science of heraldry, 
" had its origin in the German word blasen, to blow the horn ; 
" for whenever a new knight appeared in the lists, the herald 
" had to sound the trumpet ; and because this was performed 
" by the herald, this knowledge was called heraldry." 

It seems to us rather a natural suggestion than otherwise, 
that Editor and herald should either be one and the same 






UPPERMOST GOSSIP. 57 



trade, or be practised in partnership ; for, the same old author 
says : — " The practical functions of the herald consist in bla- 
" zoning, historifying, passing judgment on, and marshalling 
" coats of arms" — a duty that would scarce be done so satis- 
factorily, in any other way, as in the columns of a newspaper, 
and which could be paid for at the present established price 
for a " first-rate notice." "We claim a patent for the idea. 



TOWN GOSSIP. 

IN A LETTER TO THE LADY SUBSCRIBER IN THE 
COUNTRY. 



Dear Madam : — Not that we feel too slightly acquainted 
with you to have said " My dear Miss," if that had been 
more appropriate — for, the terms of our paper being " pay- 
ments invariably in advance," the honor of your personal 
acquaintance, of course, comes to us without being preceded 
by " value received" in the shape of an introduction ; but the 
European usage of expressing great deference, even to the 
unmarried, by addressing them as " Madam," has in it a con- 
venience as well as an elegant propriety. It enables one to 
cover the chance of an incorrectness, besides expressing more 
respect, and aiding Baron de Trobriand in his chivalric cru- 
sade for equalizing the attentions to married and single ladies. 
Indeed — (a little out of place, perhaps, as so grave a matter 
may be, in a prelude to a letter about trifles) — we should like 
to propose, to the Southern, Western and Northern etiquette 

of our country, that a lady should never be recognized as a 

58 



TOWN GOSSIP. 59 



miss, except upon great intimacy. To address all ladies per- 
sonally as " Madam," and to commence all ordinary notes and 
letters to ladies, married or single, with the respectfulness of 
" Dear Madam," would (besides the above-named advantages) 
remove a frequent occasion of blunder, and help weed from 
polite phraseology the monosyllable " Miss," which is unmusi- 
cally diminutive, and has been used both as a term of 
reproach* and of reproof, f 

Well, then, dear Madam, to descend from these for- 
malities, you would like to know what there is talked of 
in town besides the Mississipi-ment of the public mind by 
the great Daniel — (he and that river being the only streams 
that channel the continent from end to end with one 
headway of Union) besides the coming of Jenny Lind, and the 
actual presence of the whale, which, till the Nightingale shall 
arrive, holds the throne of Barnum — besides murder-trials and 
divorce-cases — besides snow-storms that have arrived belated, 
and the pea-green bonnets that have anticipated the Spring — 
besides plays — besides politics, pictures," poetry and panoramas. 
If there be a trifle or so, that has not "got into the papers," 
you would like it, offhand — would you not? 

Let us see : — 

* Evelyn says, in his Diary : — 

" In this play acted the faire and famous comedian called Roxalana> 
" from the part she performed ; and I think it was the last time, she 
" being taken to be the Earl of Oxford's miss (as at this time they began 
"to call light women.") 

/ 

t In Congreve's play of " Love for Love," we read : 

" Miss P. — Mother, Mother, Mother, look you here ! 

Mrs. Foresight.— Tie, Miss, how you bawl !" 



60 THE RAG-BAG. 



Perhaps you have not heard, in the country, of the emblem 
of assumed responsibilities, which is the newest ornament 
imported from Paris for ladies' wear. Its cost varies from 
five dollars to five hundred, and it is inappropriate except upon 
one who, in some manner, has charge of arrangements for 
others' comfort. It consists of a curiously enamelled clasp, 
made to slip with a hook into the girdle, and bearing from 
one to twenty short chains, upon the ends of which are worn 
(properly) the accoutrements of householdry — such as keys, 
pencil, silver knife, scissors, and the seal whereon is graven the 
family crest. This, which jingles with low music as a lady 
walks, is called a chatelaine, or tenure of authority ; and, in 
ancient times, was worn always and only by the mistress of 
hall or castle. The first wearer of one in New- York, was The 
Lady Emmeline Stuart "Wortley, daughter of the Duke of 
Rutland, who was here last year, and whose chatelaine was 
of most complex and elaborate richness, reaching nearly to 
the floor, and murmuring, as she entered the room like a pre- 
sence making itself heard. With her Ladyship's tall figure 
and dignified mien, and the remembrance of Belvoir Castle 
in which she was cradled, there was a certain imposing appro- 
priateness about this. The more common and fashionable 
chatelaine, however, such as is worn by young wives and 
young ladies in authority in New- York — is a smaller and more 
costly bunch of trinkets, worn with a short clasp at the waist, 
and with hooks open for any new additions which may suggest 
themselves to friends generous in jewelry. To approach, lean 
over to a lady's girdle, beg leave to examine her chatelaine, 
and be occupied for some time in admiring its enamelled nov- 
elties, is the newest elegance of fashionable manners; and, as 



TOWN GOSSIP. 61 



it affords a tete-a-tete of excusable isolation, and makes it 
necessary that the cadences of the voice should be subdued 
in proportion to the closer proximity of the inclining head, the 
fashion, we think, is likely to be considered a drawing-room 
amelioration, and pass into perpetuity, like fans. In looking 
up the etymology of the word, by-the-way, we find a couplet 
of Hudibras which would seem to hint that there may be a 
charm, beyond utility, in the look of an ornament which bears 
the keys to comforts and valuables : — 

" Cupid in all his amorous battles, 

No 'vantage finds in goods and chattels," 

says Hudibras, and a look, of other possessions than beauty, 
and of matters locked up at home, is the unquestionable 
expression of a well garnished chatelaine. 

The expected visit of the English Minister to New- York 
is making a preparatory stir among the dinner-givers. 
Of the two kinds of well-bred Englishmen — the high-shirt-col- 
lared dignity, un-aired by travel, and the repose of cosmopo- 
lite elegance and ease — we have had, for so many years, only 
official specimens of the former, that Sir Henry Bulwer, who 
is a fine model of the latter, is looked for with great interest 
and pleasure. Among the brilliant men who formed the cir- 
cle of habitues, at Lady Blessington's, some ten or twelve 
years ago, this brother of the novelist, (as we recorded at the 
time, in " Pencillings by the Way") was an admired favorite 
of all, and Her Ladyship, as good a judge of men as ever 
lived, never lost an opportunity of expressing her cordial liking 
for him. His conversation was listened to by the frequenters 
of that charming house, with unvarying deference. Ill health 



62 



THE RAG-BAG. 



and a trying career have made their mark upon Sir Henry, 
who was, in dress and looks, at the time we speak of, a singu- 
larly complete type of his brother's character of Pelham. He 
is now evidently thoughtless of his appearance, and occupying 
his mind only with a statesman's observation of things around 
him ; but his facility of address, and that high-breeding which 
is brought to complete and delightful naturalness, make him 
as fascinating a companion as ever, and well worthy of the 
unusual attention with which our first men are preparing to 
receive him. 

Conversation is very much enlivened among the young ladies 
by the gallant protest of the " Revue du Nouveau Monde" 
against the compulsory withdrawal of young married women 
from society and attention which is imposed by American 
manners. The natural instinct, of course, is against the 
re-podding of the once-shelled pea; and, at first glance, all ladies, 
married and single, see an injustice in prisoning in the beauty 
who has once " come out." There are various second 
thoughts and counter influences, however. All young wives 
are not beautiful enough to command attention, even if they 
were at liberty to receive it ; and for these the connubial taboo 
covers a course of struggle against mortification. Husbands 
are against the new light, for, were wives at liberty to play 
the belle, they, to whose business-worn brains balls now give 
no anxiety, would be compelled to weed out their powers of 
pleasing, which cares have overgrown, and once more flower 
into beaux. Then all the old people, (a formidable minority !) 
go for an early concentration upon the domestic virtues, and 
see all sorts of trouble in the keeping open of human appreci- 
ation after marriage. The accomplished Frenchman has done 



TOWN GOSSIP. 63 



a good thing, doubtless, in bringing the subject " before the 
people." It will be discussed till it come to its right level, 
and, whether his notions are altogether received or not, he 
will be cherished as the champion of young wives — 
at least by every one pretty enough to profit by his deliv- 
erance. 

What is looked at with more eager curiosity than anything 
else just now, is unquestionably Mrs. Fanny Kemble, in her 
various apparitions in Broadway. So essentially dramatic is 
she, in all her phases — whether in riding-hat, driving home 
after dismounting from the saddle in the suburbs, or riding 
bare-headed to her morning reading — that the common hack- 
ney coach of which she is the remarkable contents, carries all 
heads around with its progress, as a breeze turns the leaves in 
an avenue. In passing the Irving house in an omnibus, one 
rainy day last week, we noticed the heads of Stewart's clerks 
piled up at the vast glass windows, and eagerly watching a 
carriage that was just driving away from that caravanserai of 
fashion. Groups had collected opposite the hotel, and people 
on all sides were stopping and gazing after the one object of 
interest. Mrs. Kemble had been reading Eomeo and Juliet that 
morning, and she had stopped at Stewart's on her way down 
to Delmonico's. She sat leaning indolently back in her car- 
riage, unbonnetted and carelessly shawled, but with an expres- 
sion in her remarkable face which was a glow from Shaks- 
peare — more soft and sad, it struck us, than we had believed 
her strong mouth and compressed brows were any way capa- 
ble of seeming. Seen thus suddenly, and in contrast with 
umbrellas and omnibus physiognomies, it impressed us 
certainly as a face, at the moment, of remarkable beauty. 



a . THE RAG-BAG. 

64 



Mrs. Kemble is sitting for her portrait to George Flagg, an 
artist brim-full of genius, and, when the picture is done, of 
that, and some others of his doing, we shall paragraph the 
quality in the Home Journal. 

A morning ball — what is called a matinee dansante — given 
at one of the most charming houses in town, on Saturday last, 
delighted the gay world with a sensible change from later 
vigils of gayety —home at five in the afternoon, instead of five 
in the morning. What may not be hoped, in the way of re- 
form, after this ? 

There is some stir in the literary circles to know what will 
be the republican counterpart to Queen Victoria's new order 
of chivalry — the " Order of Minerva" — by which men of gen- 
ius are to be ennobled. Of course, England will not be left 
alone in an honoring recognition of genius, and, if we cannot 
have poet-noblemen in our country, we shall find some way to 
keep peace with the progress of the age by giving authors a 
lift. Perhaps it would be a comparatively equal advance in 
civilization, on this side the water, to let poets and artists rank 
with stock-brokers and consignees. 

And with thus much of gossip, that we should probably 
have given you over a cup of tea, dear Madam, had our feet 
known the way to you as well as our pen, let us say, for ano- 
ther week, Adieu. Yours, 

Very punctually and untiringly. 



THE CENTEAL PLANE. 



By certain unmistakeable signs — the penmanship, the mode 
of expression, the effort not to betray too much elegance, and 
the confident unceremoniousness withal — a certain letter un- 
der our hand comes from one of our fashionable readers. "We 
publish it because its main purpose is good, and its opinions 
are evidently shaped by a habit of rejecting the prejudices of 
" the rage" and thinking independently — but the introduction 
to the letter shows a looseness of recognition, as to cause and 
effect in the influence of our paper, which, if possible to so 
shrewd a mind as our correspondent's, must be too facile and 
general an error to go farther uncorrected. A word, then, as 
to the tribunal to which the Home Journal addressed its plea 
(allowed by this writer to be a successful plea) for popularity. 

The largest slice of an apple, equi-distant from top and bot- 
tom, is a segment which mathematicians denominate the cen- 

(65) 



66 



THE RAG-BAG. 



tral plane. In the lesser matters of this world — those which 
are most dependent on taste and most liable to extremes — this 
region, of the common sphere of opinions, is the broadest, 
most liberal, and nearest the central seed of truth. It forms 
the level, up to which vulgarity is to be raised, and down to 
which superfinery and pretension should be brought. The 
central plane, in short, is the level of common sense. 

Now, while the more abstract and bygone matters which 
Time infallibly measures, are subjected to the smallest of tri- 
bunals, — (as it is the narrowest part of an hour-glass which 
tests the fineness of its sand) — it is by the broadest and least 
exclusive tribunal of this central plane that matters of the pre- 
sent moment and of temporary importance are alone tried. It 
will be understood, of course, that this tribunal is not " The 
Majority." There is more bulk, both above and below, than 
in the slice through the middle of the apple. The vulgar out- 
number the possessors of common sense. So do the aspiring 
and pretentious. The " central plane" may, in fact, better be 
defined as " The Pew," whom we have, once before, tried to 
fence in, as the parish of the Home Journal's intended minis- 
tration. 

Our correspondent wonders that, considering our " foppe- 
ries," etc., our opinions should have the weight which she 
acknowledges they seem to have. If she knows us personally, 
she should have made the distinction, that, while, in what con- 
cerns only ourself, we are quite above being the slave of either 
individuals, " sets," or majorities, we are subject, in all that 
concerns others, to the verdicts of the calm-minded and judi- 
cious. "We should have no influence, else. " Influence" may 
be surprised out of the world by. audacity, but it is never 



THE CENTRAL PLANE. 57 



retained without just cause shown to the world's common 
sense. While a pretender, in private life, may flourish unac- 
countably long without being brought to the bar — while poets 
put off their " last appeal" to posterity — while the wrongs of 
money and silence are " postponed for hearing" till the judg- 
ment-day — editors are eternally on trial, promptly acquitted 
or condemned, and, upon the average of the weekly, daily, 
hourly verdicts, pronounced upon them by Common Sense, 
can alone be built their prosperity and continued " influence." 
Though the world is a fool, taken by the day, it is wise, taken 
by the year. And he who does not remember this paradox, 
and find its explanation in the effect, upwards and downwards, 
of the common sense of the central plane — in the after-recog- 
nition, by the Public, of what was too low or too high, and 
the final admission that the more liberal medium was between 
the two — may pass, with his admirers, for a man who thinks 
for himself, but he will have no " popularity" that will hold 
out — no " influence" upon which a public journal could be 
permanently established. 

No, no ! We claim, of our fashionable lady correspondent, 
that she shall run her memory through the articles in the 
Home Journal from which she has received her impression, 
and see, in their deference to common sense, the reason of any 
influence which she finds difficult to explain. We write upon 
the topics of fashionable life, but we would as soon pass our 
life upon one round of a ladder as belong to it exclusively, 
either in person or in opinions. It is the lesson we have picked 
from travel and philosophy, that, by occupying the central 
plane, one may reach what is good that were else below him, 
and what is good that were else above him. The man lives 



68 



THE RAG-BAG. 



but half a life who has no friends but the fashionable — as he 
does who has no sympathies but with the vulgar ; and, to 
known for only an exponent of the opinions of either class 
would soon put our self respect, as it would the waxing circi 
lation of our paper, on the Wane. In the most idle and trifling 
" editorial" we ever put pen to, there was a purpose to brin^ 
the subject, (up or down,) to the level of common sense. Of 
course, we are as liable to err as other mortals ; but, in the 
present prosperity of our Journal, we repeat, there is an ac 
mission, by the verdict of the " central plane," that we have 
been true to this endeavor. 






THE LADIES ASTIE. 

RIGHTS OF THE SEX DISCUSSED RECENTLY AT THE OHIO FEMALE 
CONVENTION. 



The present is the first century, and this the first country, 
of the world, in which the female sex, is (collectively, and all 
qualities taken into account) superior to the male. "Without 
comparing individuals, or touching the question of compara- 
tive capability — without asking whether there could be a female 
intellect like Webster or Clay, or a female planner of a cam- 
paign like Taylor or Scott — we merely call attention to the 
aggregate qualities of the two sexes. We say, look at the 
I ! average of the men, and the average of the women of America : 
Physically — (from such slavery to business as excludes 
exercise and checks the rebound of the natural spirits, from the 
hurried and unsystematic manner of eating, and from inatten- 
tion to personal regularity and cleanliness) — men have degen- 

(69) 



70 • THE KAG-BAG. 



erated in America, and there is no one in twenty who is above 
the average stature of woman, or is stronger in body. 

Intellectually — the national admiration, for nothing in a 
young man but the art of making money, the diseased and 
monomaniac cupidity of men of middle age, and the broken 
down constitutions and unfurnished minds of a few men who 
live to be old, are connecting causes which have thrown in- 
tellectual culture mostly on the side of the other sex. It is 
the women who read. It is the women who are the tribunal 
of any question aside from politics or business. It is the wo- 
men who give or withhold a literary reputation. It is the 
women who regulate the style of living, dispense hospitalities, 
exclusively manage society, control clergymen and churches, 
regulate the schemes of benevolence, patronize and influence 
the Arts, and pronounce upon Operas and foreign novelties ; 
and it is the wonlen, (we think we may venture to add,) who 
exercise the ultimate control over the Press — they being the 
real constituency of every journal that gets to the fireside, or 
that is conducted with any pretension to principle, or is not 
exclusively commercial. 

Morally — the women of America are superior to the men, 
to a degree (the mere fact scarce need be asserted) which was 
never known before in the history of nations. This, it is true, 
is partly accidental — our men having no time except for vice 
ready-made, and not being generally of a quality that could 
offer a temptation at all dangerous to the virtue of the refined 
— but the fact is no less a tower of strength to the other sex ; 
and the prodigious elevation which is given by virtue to all the 
other portions of the character, is no less note-worthy as a 
reason for the undeniable supremacy of female character in 



THE LADIES ASTIR. 71 



this country. This was at the bottom of the answer given by 
an American statesman to De Tocqueville. The French phi- 
losopher, after lamenting the corruption of our elections, the 
bribery of our Legislatures, the paying of unscrupulous par- 
tizanship with our offices and diplomatic honors, and the 
baseness of our political press, asked : — " And now, what do 
you really rely upon, to save America from these growing 
elements of destruction ?" " On the fire-side !" answered the 
American statesman. 

In religion, finally, in taste, in general elevation of sentiment 
and in consistency of standard of opinion — the women of Ame- 
rica are superior to the men, as probably no one will deny. 

"We have thus given the reasons why we look, more gravely 
than some of our editorial brethren, on the different " conven- 
tions" that have been held for the assertion of " "Women's 
Eights," and particularly on the organized and formal one 
which has just taken place in Ohio. Before making farther 
remark, let us briefly sketch the leading features of this 
meeting. 

The privileges claimed for woman, in the Eesolutions 
drawn up, were : — entire equality with men in law-making, 
voting and governing; equal prices for industry; equal stand- 
ards of morality and propriety ivith the other sex; equal con- 
trol of property and children; equal social, official, religious, 
literary, pecuniary, and personal privileges. 

A little to restore the balance, before giving our own sand- 
grain of opinion on this critical subject, we must remind the 
reader of the time-worn authorities on the other side of the 
question. The holy fathers of the early primitive church la- 
mented even the existence of the sex. Says Gibbon : — " It 



72 THE BAG-BAG. 



was their favorite opinion, that, if Adam had preserved his 
obedience to the Creator, he would have lived forever in a 
state of virgin purity, and that some harmless mode of vege- 
tation might have peopled Paradise with a race of innocent 
and immortal beings. The use of marriage was permitted 
only to his fallen posterity, as a necessary expedient to con- 
tinue the human species, and as a restraint, however imperfect, 
on the natural licentiousness of desire." Aulus Gellius says : 
— " Metellus Numidicus, the censor, declared to the Eoman 
people, in a public oration, that, had kind nature allowed us 
to exist without the help of woman, we should be debarred 
from a very troublesome companion ; and he could recommend 
matrimony only as a sacrifice of private pleasure to public 
duty." Gibbon says : — " In every age and country, the wiser, 
or, at least, the stronger of the two sexes has usurped the 
powers of the state, and confined the other to the cares and 
pleasures of domestic life. In hereditary monarchies, however, 
and especially in those of modern Europe, the gallant spirit of 
chivalry, and the law of succession, have accustomed us to 
alldw a singular exception ; and a woman is often acknow- 
ledged the sovereign of a great kingdom, in which she would 
be deemed incapable of exercising the smallest employment, 
civil or military. But, as the Eoman Emperors were still 
considered as the generals and magistrates of the republic, 
their wives and mothers, although distinguished by the name 
of Augusta, were never associated to their personal honors. The 
haughty Agrippina aspired, indeed, to share the honors of the 
Empire which she had conferred on her son ; but her mad 
ambition, detested by- every citizen who felt for the dignity 
of E.ome, was disappointed by the artful firmness of Seneca I 



THE LADIES ASTIR. 73 



and Burrhus. The good sense, or the indifference, of succeed- 
ing princes, restrained them from offending the prejudices of 
their subjects ; and it was reserved for the profligate Elioga- 
balus to discharge the acts of the Senate with the name of his 
Mother Sosemias, who was placed by the side of the consuls, 
and subscribed, as a regular member, the degrees of the legis- 
lative assembly. Her more prudent sister, Mamssa, (mother 
of the Emperor Alexander,) declined the useless prerogative, 
and a solemn law was enacted, excluding women forever from 
the Senate, and devoting to the infernal gods, the head of the 
wretch by whom this sanction should be violated. The sub- 
stance, NOT THE PAGEANTRY OF POWER, Was the object of 

Mamsea's ambition. She maintained an absolute and lasting 
empire over the mind of her son.'''' " The most important care 
of Mamcea and her wise counsellors, ivas to form the character 
of the young Emperor, on whose personal qualities the hap- 
piness or misery of the Roman world must ultimately depend. 
An excellent understanding soon convinced Alexander of the 
advantages of virtue, the pleasure of knowledge, and the ne- 
cessity of labor. His unalterable regard for his mother, guar- 
ded his inexperienced youth from the poison of flattery." We 
need scarce remind our readers of the " Salic law' 1 * by which 
daughters were excluded from all inheritance. The Greeks 
" did not live on a footing of friendly intimacy with their wives, 
like the moderns, but preserved a certain distance, handed 
down from the earliest ages, when women were regarded as 

* The names of the four originators of this law would make very good 
targets for eloquent execration by the orators of future conventions. They 
were Arogast, Bodogast, Salogast, and Windagast — the most celebrated 
men among the pioneers and settlers of France. 
4 



74 THE RAG-BAG. 



the slaves and property of their husbands. The women inhab- 
ited a different part of the house, called the gyncceum, the 
most remote interior room, in the building, and were employed 
in making clothing for their husbands and families." Other 
and more familiar particulars of the degraded condition of 
women in more modern days, will occur to the reader — Saxony 
not to be forgotten where, (as we saw, in repeated instances, 
in the polite city of Dresden, a year or two ago) the wives 
and daughters are harnessed into carts with donkeys and dogs, 
and draw vegetables to market, while the husband and father 
walks alongside with a whip, smoking his pipe ! 

Having thus given our readers the data we can command, 
pro and con, for forming an opinion on what is "by no means 
the least important " sign of the times" — the American agita- 
tion of the question of the equality of the sexes — let us briefly 
make a suggestion as to what seems practicable in the pro- 
posed reform : — 

The power exists. Women are, we fancy, strong enough, 
in our country. For a beginning, at least, it is principally 
important to inquire how the power they really possess can 
be combined for action and wisely directed. With its appli- 
cation to good purposes and its increasing utility, of course 
the power would more easily assume its true station, and 
woman would take rank according to her manifest merits, 
with little or no opposition. 

But we doubt whether it could be brought about by female 
freedom to vote. We agree with Mr. Greeley that the worst 
women would probably drive the best from the ballot-box. An 
easier first step is wanted— something that does not conflict 
directly and rudely with the inbred habits of the sex. Will 






THE LADIES ASTIR. 



75 



the ladies pardon our boldness, if we venture to suggest a 
method, by which Female Power— that desired Quatrieme 
Etat— may be organized, recognized, and exercised effectively 
and systematically. 

Briefly : — 

The favor and acquaintance of women is a thing they can 
give, or withhold, at will. No man can hold up his head in a 
community without it. No man of any influence, position, or 
office, would willingly risk a public forfeiture of it. Keeping 
the doors of society as women do, they could make a formal 
exclusion immediately felt, and, even were he disposed to 
defy it himself, the offender's family and relations, for him, 
would inquire closely into his conduct and use their utmost 
endeavors to prevent or remove the disgrace. 

For this purpose of combined social exclusion, the women 
of every Congressional or Legislative District might form an 
Association, either acting separately, or with reference to a 
larger State or National Convention that should meet by Dele- 
gates. They might subdivide into a Society for every town, 
so as to reach the home and neighborhood of every public 
representative. Journals might be published, edited by the 
sex themselves, which would discuss the questions at issue 
and guard them against rash or unreasonable action, and, by 
meetings and discussions exclusively among themselves, they 
might form, and act upon, well considered opinions. 

Take an evil, for instance, like the flagrant bribery and cor- 
ruption of some of our State Legislatures. The method of 
" soaping a Bill through" has been long understood by intelli- 
gent men, but, as the reader may not have seen the notices of 



76 THE RAG-BAG. 

the means used recently to carry the " Wetherell and Forrest 
Divorce Bills" through the Pennsylvania Legislature, we copy 
a passage, (and it is a subject which is of interest to every 
lady,) from the Philadelphia Spirit of the Times ; — 

" We have more than once asserted emphatically, that undue and 
criminal means were actively employed to secure the passage of the 
two prominent divorce bills, now pending in the Legislature of this 
State. We have seen enough to convince us, and fortify ourself in the 
assertion, that no scruples of law or conscience are permitted to inter- 
fere with the projects of those hired legislative panders to connuhial 
resentment and perfidy. From the sly presentation of a case of brandy, 
to the direct and unequivocal tender of money, no appliances have been 
left unused. Open threats have been employed to imtimidate weak 
members, and the worst forms of corruption to advance collateral and 
outside objects. Any attempt to refute these charges, or suppress their 
repetition, will be signally futile. We have in our possession letters 
from prominent parties, who have hitherto stood high in public esti 
mation, containing pecuniary tenders for the suppression of evidence, 
and offering the highest considerations for connivance and silence." 

Now — we ask — would this disgraceful system exist, if the 
evidence of corruption here offered, or easily obtained when 
the villainy has been committed, were to be laid before a con- 
vention of women, and the bribed Member were to be publicly 
stigmatized and excluded from every house, far and near, in 
which there lived a virtuous woman ? 

This is, of course, a crude suggestion, but it points, we 
think, however vaguely, to a power women have, which is 
strong enough for any good purpose — by which they can in- 
fluence the motives and conduct of any public man — which 
they can exercise without contact or conflict with the other 



THE LADIES ASTIR. 7.7 



sex — and in the well-weighed decisions and verdicts of which, 
all men whose social position is of any weight, would concur 
and assist. If women are capable of agreeing, combining, 
systematizing, and persevering in concerted action, the power 
they want is, we think, abundantly at their disposal. 



GOSSIPPING LETTER 

TO THE LADY SUBSCRIBER OUT OF NEW-YORK. 



Dear Madam : 

Audacious ransackers, on the highway of events, as the 
Pressditti are, they are apt to bring, to your caves of curiosity, 
only the lumber of news — the " pelf and packware" of novelty 
— the ups and downs of pork, cotton and monarchies — leaving 
to pass, un-opened and un-plundered, the very caskets of tri- 
fles, the very jewels of chit-chat and gossip, of which you are 
most covetous in your seclusion. As prompt as they, to pat- 
rol and pillage the passing hour for your pleasure, (thisjp patch 
is provokingly planted), we humbly volunteer, occasionally to 
make a daintier job of it — to send you whatever is valuable, 
of course, in the " General" way, but to add a small parcel, 
from time to time, choicely made up from a nicer plunder of 
" what people carry about them." 

To begin at once, with a trifle or two : — 

A new revelation, in the Art of Belle-ship has been made 

(78) 



GOSSIPING LETTER. 



79 



by Steffanoni, and the belles of New- York are occupied with 
but one idea — how to carry arms. The infinite expression, 
grace and elegance that may be given to the presence of a lady 
by the movements of arms, hands and fingers, is a secret that 
has always been within reach, of course — like a sun-dial in a 
grave — but the bringing it to light, by the superb and cool 
prima-donna, of the Havana Company, has shown its uses, and 
compelled the dullest eye to " take an observation." Ladies 
are looked at, now, by gentlemen and by each other — not to 
price their chatelaines and laces — not to see whose hair is a la 
Sevigne, or whose eyelids are darkened with henna — not to 
admire the bonnet farthest off the face, or the dress that most 
uses the side- walk for a train-bearer — for none of these charms 
look envious or admiring eyes, at present — but, they look to 
see who knows what to do with her arms, and who, with the 
unconscious tranquility of lady-likeness, has the betraying 
thought-alphabet of Steffanoni, in the play of her fingers. The 
reigning belles have been tacitly re-measured by this new 
standard. To this grace, in those who chanced to possess it, 
is attributed their hitherto inexplicable fascination ; and, to the 
want of it, in those who have it not, is equally attributed the 
misgiving, which had always been entertained, that they had 
been admired by accident. It is seen, in fact, that, in the 
tuition of young ladies, the arms have been culpably neglect- 
ed — that a new branch of education, from the shoulder down, 
must be grafted on the system of any boarding-school, expect- 
ing, hereafter, to be fashionable — and the probability is, that, 
in the list of "branches taught," Steffanonomy will follow 
close after " Astronomy," and be dignified with an extra price 



80 THE RAG-BAG. 



and a separate Professorship. So much for the leading nov- 
elty among the belles ! 

Among those who converse — in corners, on sofas, before 
suppers and after dinners — the great topic, just now, is the 
state of society. Common theme enough as this is, and thread- 
bare enough at all times, New -York is at a stage of transition f 
which gives it an unusual stimulus. Emerson's " banyan tree" 
of Europeanism, which " sends its roots under the ocean to 
sprout on the other side of the world," is coming up and bud- 
ding and flowering so fast, that the indigenous plants feel 
already overshadowed. Such a phenomenon as a person, 
male or female, who speaks well of New- York society, is not 
to be found. The war against it is waged even in the pulpit. 
Mrs. Kirklancl is down upon it, with unmitigated vigor and 
vinegar, in Sartain's Magazine for this month — the Lorgnette 
" does it brown" in weekly numbers — the Literary World is 
at it again, with essay No. 2 — Baron de Trobriand has " pink- 
ed it with his perfumed rapier" in three set encounters — Major 
Noah tweaks its prominences, one feature per week — tourists 
and letter- writers caricature it " for lively reading" to the 
Londoners. The best abused thing, on this planet, in this 
present cycle of eternity, is New- York society. 

"We have no idea of defending it — though dough, and little 
dogs at their ninth-day, and many a delightful dish in its un- 
derdone-itude, are, like society, entitled to such indulgence of 
time as has been needed for previous dough, dogs, dishes and 
society — but we doubt whether, oh rural Madam, you are 
aware how this epidemic of mistrust and disgust affects the 
social spirits and respiration of even those who seem uncon- 
scious of the disease. Every body is so abused and ridiculed 



GOSSIPING LETTER. 81 



that nobody is believed in — people do not even believe in 
themselves. The haunting incubus of all who " pretend to be 
any body," is a doubt of their own position. They are afraid 
to give a party, lest somebody should " vote it vulgar" — afraid 
to have an acquaintance who is not intimate at the So-and-so's 
— afraid to take seats at the Operas lest the fashionables should 
not be on that side of the house — afraid to decide where they 
will go for the summer^ till they know what is to be " the 
thing" — afraid to have a card printed, answer a note, ask a 
stranger to dinner, or reply to a civility, lest they should show 
that they have not been to Europe, or do something which 
would number them with the last people they heard ridiculed. 
Dread of classification with an unfashionable set, will make 
them shy their most estimable acquaintance in public, or fa- 
vor one to whom, (when they have just said their prayers, or 
first wake in the morning) they would not readily confess 
they were capable of owing a pleasure. The silly and most 
frightened select a set, and shut their eyes and hold on, in 
terror, to that ; and those who are quite as ambitious, but more 
sagacious, cultivate those of every circle who seem to know 
most of " style." From the anarchy that this produces, there 
is no one " set" in New- York whose combined superiority is 
definitely thought of — and there is no one or more whose ac- 
quaintance is indispensable — and this forms, of course, (for 
those who are not pursued by the phantom above spoken of,) 
a social republic, without any recognized aristocracy, where 
the man of the world, even if he can find no class worth pay- 
ing homage to, can, at least, pick his friends " with the largest 
liberty." 

Of the other topics of present talk, perhaps the most fruitful 

4* 



82 THE RAG-BAG. 



of new ideas is the ebb of the divorce excitements — the reced- 
ing floods having left stranded, on the beach of attention, 
various questions which had hitherto been hidden by the 
vasty deep of indifference. Sundry new conclusions are 
being arrived at, by the examination of these. The protec- 
tion of drawing-room against kitchen — the allowance due to 
beauty when compelled to degrading association — the 
safety of conforming even to a husband's wishes and habits — 
the degree of willingness in women to sustain each other — 
the strange exaction, by the censorious, that one who is 
reproached should be proved so much better than themselves 
— the claim of a woman on her friends, when she is accused 
and in peril — the extent of service due to the cause of an 
injured lady by gentlemen acquaintance — the power of legisla- 
tures over matrimony — the reasonableness of divorce — the 
necessary testimony and its probable cost — and the danger of 
trusting either virtue or beauty to the careless keeping of frank- 
ness, unsuspiciousness, kindness, and mirthfulness — are all mat- 
ters which have been of late, newly and vivaciously discussed, 
and upon all of which, there is little doubt, society is wiser 
this year than the last. 

Thus far, dear Madam, we have confined our pillage of news 
to what no other of our fraternity is likely to have laid hands 
upon, and we stop before we miscellanify with meaner stuff. 
Topics for our city readers (who of course have not read a 
letter that is not addressed to them) we treat elsewhere. And 
eo, Adieu. 



THE TEADE OF AUTHOESHIP. 

An author has fame in lieu of most temporal advantages. 

Shenstone. 



There is a music which, like the air upon a wandering 
organ, gives least pleasure to him who hears it most, yet 
upon which Public opinion, that arbitrary Assessor, puts the 
most exorbitant value, namely : — the grinding of the shoe 
upon the pavement as the passer-by turns to look after. In that 
merciless human scale, by which all superiority is graded 
that it may be atoned for, this music, which the famous hear 
behind them in a perpetual staccato as they walk, is charged 
far higher than wealth, and its compensatory tax, by the 
offended Equality of mankind, far more rigorously exacted. 

Indulge us in a fancied analogy : — 

An author gets his livelihood by providing for the wants 
of the inside of the head, and a hatter by providing for the 

(83) 



84 THE RAG-BAG. 



wants of the outside — but One walks with the music of the 
grinding shoe behind him, and the Other does not ; and, to 
understand the tax paid for this difference, you have only to 
to transfer the celebrity, and subject the hatter, in the selling 
of his hats, to the drawbacks of an author in the selling of his 
books. Let us imagine a world in which these two trades 
have changed places : — 

The batter (in a land where hatters " have fame in lieu of 
most temporal advantages") produces a spring fashion of hats. 
He is not allowed to dispose of the article himself, but, having 
created the material, invented the shape, and given the neces- 
sary gloss and durability, he is obliged to issue it through a 
hat publisher, who, for only selling it, takes four-fifths of the 
net profits. To commend or otherwise further the knowledge 
or sale of the article he produces and lives by, would subject 
the hatter to a charge of indelicacy and forwardness. But 
the quality or value of his hat is a legitimate object of attack 
by periodicals established for the purpose, and the hatter's 
private character is, by general usage, (as no other trades- 
man's is) allowed to be freely used and abused in that dispar- 
agement of his hats, which goes by the name of " legitimate 
criticism." 

Though stigmatised as a " thriftless class" in the mercantile 
community, (for continuing to furnish goods for one-fifth of 
the profits, and for other lack of business talent inseparable from 
a hatter's organization,) this same community lends vote and 
influence to the complex system by which hatters are kept 
poor — denying, among other things, the protection which the 
law gives to every other kind of domestic goods, and sustain- 
ing the hat-publishers in keeping the control over American 



THE TRADE OF AUTHORSHIP. 85 



hats by the introduction of foreign hats — which (from' the lack 
of an international hat-copyright) can be stolen from foreign 
hatters, and imported for nothing. We may add, to these 
retributions for fame, the general ineligibility of hatters — 
(common parlance declaring them unfit for matrimonial prefer- 
ence or political trusts and honors ;) — and last, not least, a 
deferring of all payment of honor, that can possibly be held 
back, till after the hatter's death — " the root of a great name" 
(as the old proverb has it) " being in the dead body." 

"Whether more, or less, celebrated — whether more, or less, 
looked after in the street — all authors are assessed alike (as 
possessors of the envied music of the grinding shoe) and 
charged with this pro rata tax — of the nine specifications just 
stated. The authors should do as hatters ivould do — combine 
to demand from their country an equality of tariff protection 
with other trades ; that (at least) a Court of Errors should be 
established, to which authors less looked after in the street, 
could appeal to be less taxed : that, as authors do not " come 
into their property" till they die, they should be rated, during 
their life-time, as " minors" in law, and have all their business 
and bargains referable to Trustees ; and that, as the shoe-grind- 
ing respect for authors has certainly diminished since "immortal 
Chatterton" was starved to death, there should be some pro- 
portionate graduation of the present penalties to the present 
honors of authorship ; these are heads for Essays which we 
have not time to write, but which we hand over, as suggestive 
memoranda, to the expected apostle of Copyright and of 
Eeform in Literary estimation — confining ourself, for the pre- 
sent, to a personal protest against one of these nine taxations, 
of which we shall immediately show our disregard, and of 



86 THE RAG-BAG: 



which we hereafter intend, in The Home Journal, to recom- 
mend and encourage a general contumacy by our oppressed 
brother authors. 

We claim, then, that our dignity as an author should be so 
far degraded to a level with that of wealthy merchants and 
manufacturers, that we may be allowed, like them, without 
any charge of forwardness or indelicacy, to commend our own 
wares to the public, under our own name. We write our 
books, as they build ships and weave cottons, for money. 
We live by customers, as they do. If we get more of the 
high-priced music of the grinding-shoe than the merchants and 
manufacturers we declare that we neither ordered it nor want 
it, and that we pay for it, besides, in the eight other items of 
taxation before stated. If it be more derogatory, to dignity 
like ours, to advertise our books with a commendation, than, 
to dignity like theirs, to advertise " fast-sailing ships," and 
" cheap and durable sheeting and shirting," we beg to have 
our dignity thus much cut down. We will take the pecuniary 
profit we gain thereby, and give an order on our posthumous 
fame (of which this dignity is the assessed shadow) for the 
difference. 

But, before setting the example of advertising, in a mer- 
chant-like manner, a new book of our own, let us say to the 
brothers of our craft, that we invite, for The Home Journal, 
a descriptive announcement, by the author, of every new book. 
No man is so likely as the author himself, to give the account 
which purchasers want, of the aim, tenor, and relative bear- 
ings of a work. This would be no approach to " a puff." It 
is, in fact, a Preface — preceding the work in a newspaper, 
instead of being tardily read in the volume after it is already 



THE TRADE OF AUTHORSHIP. gf 

purchased. Few men would write otherwise than justly of 
their own productions ; all authors, of any merit, would write 
instructively, and in a way to further the sale which is their 
object. Let those who write for admiration, feel a delicacy 
in truthfully and openly announcing what they have to offer 
to the public. Till admiration can be coined and admitted 
into the currency, authors will be expected, as now, to pay 
their debts in the money, not in the admiration, they make by 
their books ; and while men of genius have to pay without 
delicacy, like other people, they should not be above making 
money without delicacy, like other people, wherewith to pay. 



OPEEA AND THE USES OF THE PIT, 



Absence from the city for a month past has interrupted 
the outrider notice by which we promise to keep pace with 
the Opera. By this chance falling behind, we have quite lost 
the run of its progress. The opera-goers, meantime, seem to 
have made up their minds. The demure little Barili, with her 
Spanish eyes and rabbit-like coyness of mouth — a bit of a 
problem then — is now the indulged pet of the aristocushions. 
She poises her voice on the top of a high note, with as little 
misgiving as a butterfly on a wheat-ear, and her boquet, which 
she carried with the tight grasp of timidity then, hangs over 
her forefinger, noiv, with the loose hold of assured poco-curante. 
Benedetti's appointment, as the Town's Passion, is confirmed 
— (capital actor and most satisfactory taker up of his notes as 
he is) — and Beneventano is where he was, in well-ascertained 
impregnability to scientific exception. Sanquirico, in unmen- 

tioned excellence still. Fruity Pico l they say, made a miss 

(88) 



OPERA AND THE USES OF THE PIT. 89 



of it in the opera we have not seen, " La Pazza d'Amore," 
but she came in on Friday, grinding her dulcimer as usual, 
(in " Linda") and sang with the same delicious ripeness of 
utterance as before, and the same wave-like pourings of melody 
over her lips, bounteous as the tumble of sea-swells over a 
reef of coral. (No poetry intended.) What have been the 
intermediate ups and downs of these way ward-town-pleasings, 
we could get no clue to, from the newspapers — for the critics 
seem to have dropped the opera by general taboo. What is 
the matter ? Is not Eitchie-dom operatic ? Or is not " the 
Press" curious as to the way ladies' hair grows behind, and 
do " we" stay away because all the frontage of the see-and- 
be-seen-ery of the house, pit, gallery and all, is monopolized 
by " seats for subscribers ?" 

And this, by the way, takes a thought of ours by the hand 
and leads it out for a paragraph. There should be a pit 
proper — cheap and spacious. Not wholly for accommodation 
to " the people," though that is something. But, the dress cir- 
cle wants a pit. It is, (if Signor Pogliani did but know it,) the 
most convincing possible proof of taste for operatic music in 
New York, (or of something else,) that it continues fashionable 
though frequented almost exclusively by fashionables. It 
must be for the music that they come, for they never would 
persevere in mutual ostentation, in such a mixed up present- 
ment of rival " sets" as is congregated at Palmo's. They 
know too much of each other to find pleasure in that — too 
much, each one, of the skeleton in the other's closet. They 
come for something besides that opera within an opera — three 
hours of envious comparison, with a scan. mag. orchestra of 
whispers and reverie. The people sitting around them in the 



90 THE RAG-BAG. 



circle, and below them in the same price pit, are the enemy, 
the unbelievers, the sneerers, the knowers of that dread secret 
of how they came by their money and what they would be 
without it. It is not for these cold eyes that they would dress 
and come to the opera. But, for a legitimate pit — for a be- 
lieving five hundred of takers-for-granted, who see them as 
what they show for, and ask no questions — for a pit of acqui- 
escing, envying, marvelling, unencroaching gazers on their 
plumes and ermines — for this part of an opera will fashionables 
(very unconsciously) dress most, and love music more. And, 
for the " impertinent stare of the pit," as a predominant and 
necessary attraction of an opera, the manager should tacitly 
make his calculations — owning to nothing of the kind. 

"We see it confidently stated that a " Music Hall" of great 
splendor is soon of be erected, and, (as we are not likely to 
have a new Opera-House besides,) we fear that the plan of the 
new building, though designed for operas as well as concerts, 
will exclude a pit. But, (to speak seriously,) we think no 
such refined public amusements as an opera or concert, ought 1 
to exclude, either by price or usages of toilette, the lovers of J 
music who are poor. With no intention of surprising the pub- I 
lie, we may disclose, that there is a very large class of culti- 
vated men who are compelled to live and dress economically. J 
And these men — below the level of kid gloves and dollar 
tickets — should rightfully have all the advantages, both of 
hearing the music and seeing the audience — foregoing display 
only as the consideration for a cheaper ticket. (" Hour ex- | 
pired.") 



LIFE BOATS 



Sterne's appeal, when he would rouse sympathy for the 
prisoner, was made by taking a single captive, and portray- 
ing him, as he notched on a stick the weary chronicle of his 

j confinement. Wishing to interest our readers in a scheme of 
benevolence that is only not thrilling because it saves a thou- 

i sand lives instead of one, let us preface some remarkable 

; statistics of the efforts of philanthropy in favor of Life Boats, 
with a single example of their operation, which we chanced 
to witness last summer. 
At the breakfast table of the luxurious Samoset House, at 

l ! Plymouth, where we were passing a week in the month of 
September, there was, one morning, unusual excitement. 
The sun was shining brilliantly, but there had been a gale 
during the night, and the surf on the beach would doubtless 
be magnificent. The house was full of distinguished men 

Mtaking a vacation from politics and law, and distinguished belles 

(91) 



92 THE KAG-BAG. 



sparkling with the vitality of the salt air and witty society of 
the place, and a drive on the hard floor of the two-mile beach 
was the universal and eager proposition. 

"We need not describe the splendid scene presented to the 
troop of carriages that were soon flying rapidly around that 
long semicircle of sand, as smooth and hard as a pavement of 
marble ; nor the romp of the lovely women, who, dismounted 
from the vehicles, and careless of wet feet, were joining Judges 
and legistators in chasing the waves out, and escaping from 
the returning surf as it put up its foaming lip to rally and 
become the pursuer. It was a gay scene which served for 
one of those contrasts of which life is full — followed immedi- 
ately, as its impression was, by one of the most touching pic- 
tures we had ever happened unexpectedly to see. 

There had been a rumor of a wreck during the night, and, 
while on the beach, some one of the party espied the topmasts 
of a sunken vessel, far out on a ledge, tossing to and fro with 
the heavy sea. Judge ~W. had, meantime, been getting infor- 
mation, and the curiosity of the company was soon turned, 
from the magnificent spectacle of the heavy breakers, to the 
humble dwellings in the neighborhood of the small shed which 
shelters the Government Life Boat. Under the pilotage of 
the Judge, who is at home in Plymouth, we were soon at the 
door of a cottage which had no exterior sign of the drama 
within, except tne wet trowsers and shirts hanging on the 
fence to dry — a cottage which the traveller would have passed, 
with the sun shining on its shut door, and thought it the dull \ 
type of an abode for poverty the most monotonous and unevent- 
ful. The lifting of the latch, however, introduced us to a 
scene of conflict with death, where lowly benevolence was 



LIFE BOATS. 93 



doing its work with a zeal that would have done honor to a 

palace. 

Two women were watching over a man who was stretched 
on a bed, and who seemed to be struggling, with a constant 
and weak murmuring and writhing, against clangers that he 
still apprehended. His wet hair lay out upon the pillow, 
and his white lips and sunken eyes with the despairing ter- 
ror that his countenance expressed, made him a truly fright- 
ful picture of suffering. His kind and patient attendants 
were using every means to restore him to consciousness. 
They rubbed his hands and his chest, spoke tenderly to him, 
tried to meet the look of his half opening eyes, and in their 
self-forgetting efforts to relieve him from his frightful dream, 
they took no notice of the coming in of strangers. 

By a bright wood fire in the small kitchen adjoining, 
another woman, and a man in a common fisherman's dress, 
were attending to another sufferer who had sufficiently 
recovered to sit upright, and who was brokenly telling the 
story of the night's trials. He was a small, curly-headed, 
bright-cheeked sailor, of perhaps thirty years of age, and his 
brief sentences, each giving the history of a space that con- 
tained a lifetime of agony, were of a touching eloquence that 
no dramatic poetry could equal. He had done his best to 
save a favorite boy of twelve or thirteen, the son of the owner 
of the vessel, but the lad was washed over* and lost in the 
attempt, and another man was lost after long clinging to the 
rigging. The two, who were the survivors, succeeded in lashing 
themselves to the top-masts, and they were taken off by the 
Life Boat, as soon after daylight as they, were seen by the 
hardy fishermen on the beach. 



94 THE RAG-BAG, 



The rescue was by no means an easy one ; but, full as it was 
of peril, to those who expected no reward but the approba- 
tion of duty, and burthensome as might be the gratuitous 
care taken of the sufferers, both were freely and promptly 
done, and with no appearance of claiming even admiration 
for the peril to save, or for the efforts to resuscitate and give 
comfort. 

We chanced to have, in our company, the member of Con- 
gress (Mr. Grinnell) to whose efforts, in procuring the passage 
of the bill for appropriation, the supply of the Life Boat to 
this beach was mainly due, and, of course, the lives which 
could not have been saved without it. It was with great 
interest that we went, from the touching scene we have 
described, to the Boat restored to its protecting shelter, 
and examined its contrivances to save. We wished that 
every Member of the body of men who decide on the trifling 
sums asked for such enterprises of benevolence, could have 
seen that appealing drama going on in the house near by, 
and then looked upon the little cost to the country by which 
hundreds of such acts of mercy are effected ! There would 
have been afterwards, never a reluctant vote for an appropria- 
tion for Life Boats. 

We have since seen a private letter addressed to the Hon. 
Win. A. Newell, Member of Congress from New-Jersey, 
giving an account of the saving of one hundred and sixty-six 
lives by a Government Life Boat of new invention. This 
was upon Squam Beach, (coast of New-Jersey,) where the 
packet ship " Ayrshire" stranded in a violent snow storm, on 
the night of the 13th of January. Lying on a bar, at some 
distance from the shole, with a heavy sea between, it was 



LIFE BOATS. g 5 



impossible for an ordinary boat to reach the vessel, and the 
whole of this large number of passengers would have perished 
in sight of land. A line was sent out, discharged with a 
ball from a carronade, across the ship, and a Life Boat thus 
towed off, with what is called " a car ;" one hundred and 
twenty landed on the first day, and the remaining forty-six 
the day after. Only one passenger was lost, and he from 
attempting to come on shore on the outside of the car, con- 
trary to orders. 

With these two special cases presented to the mind of the 
reader, we make extracts from the remarks of Hon. Mr. 
Newell, when advocating, before Congress, a proposition to 
devise means for the saving of life and property on our coast. 
We will preface it only with one statistical paragraph, from 
another speech, showing the risk and loss of life and property 
bound to New- York, in one year : — 

" The total number of wrecks is five hundred and eighty-five. The 
number of the men engaged in working the vessels is one thousand 
nine hundred and sixteen, passengers one thousand nine hundred and 
sixty-nine, and of lives lost four hundred and seventy-seven. The 
value of the vessels is estimated at $2,021,176, and of the cargoes at 
$2,501,771, making together the sum of $4,523,176. The amount of 
insurance paid on these vesssels was $1,579,492, and on their cargoes 
$1,221,827, making the total of property saved $2,801,319— thus 
showing the actual loss to be $1,721,857." 



VALUATION OF A "FOREIGN APPOINTMENT." 



There is a phrase which " does many a chore" in the con- 
veyance of meaning, and there are far more sounding and 
pretentious ones that we could better afford to lose — the phrase 
" it don't pay." Born, as it was, of a quality that is the spinal 
marrow of American character and success — the obstinate 
reduction of everything to its real value — we venture to pro- 
pose for it an enlarged respect, and to suggest to Mr. Ban- 
croft an inquiry into its more particular birth and parentage, 
as an historical key to the time. 

Spite, however, of " does it pay ?" asked of almost anything 
as a matter of habit, there are things, (as there are men,) that, 
in the hurry of the world, go overvalued for a wonderfully 
long time ; and, among these, is what is commonly called a 
"foreign appointment." The eagerness with which this is 
sought — the other hopes that are thrown up, and the time, 
money and dignity expended in the pursuit of it — make it 

(96) 



VALUATION OF A " FOREIGN APPOINTMENT." 97 



worth while, perhaps, that the question " does it pay ?" should 
be asked and answered. 

Of our " full missions" (to England, France, Kussia and 
Spain) we need not speak, as there is generally an ulterior 
motive in the acceptance of them, and the immediate advan- 
tages are the least inducement. But of a Charge-ship let us 
try to give an idea. 

The diplomatic circle of a foreign capital is a society of men 
of all countries, picked for their consummate tact and accom- 
plishment, bred to diplomacy as a profession, oftenest men of 
rank, and married to ladies of court breeding and elegance. 
They are the more immediate circle around the sovereign, and 
the upper class of the court society is, to a great degree, gov- 
erned, in its taste and opinions, by the diplomacy. To dis- 
charge the mere business of the countries they represent, is a 
small portion of the anxieties, and the smallest tax on the 
abilities of these functionaries. The game of predominance 
in national dignity and position— in the influence of their coun- 
try at that court —is the one which they play with all their 
powers, and the ability and means for which are the standards 
by which they measure respect for a new comer. 

Few things in this world require more tact, nicer discrim- 
ination, and a quicker sense of both natural and artificial 
politeness, than conversation and manners in this refined sphere. 
The only language spoken is French, and, to all foreign dip- 
lomatists, this is as familiar as their native tongue. Difficult 
as polite conversation is, with all the advantages of unembar- 
rassed language, it becomes proportionably difficult, or rather 
ludicrous, with an imperfect knowledge of the language. 
5 



98 THE RAG-BAG. 



Courts being places hedged round with formalities and 
ceremonials, the consequence of a diplomatic representative 
depends more than seems rational— far more than in a republic 
— on the appearance he makes and the style in which he lives. 
It is with an appreciative knowledge of this, that foreign gov- 
ernments give ample salaries to their ministers — the pay, of 
one of equal rank, being three or four times as much as that 
of one of our own. Mr. Lawrence, our minister in London, 
does not equal the display of the Kussian and Austrian Am- 
bassadors, and yet, for the rent of his house only, he pays one 
thousand dollars more than the whole amount of his salary. 
It is all very well to say, where a minister is not rich enough 
to supply wants from his private purse, that plainness better ' 
becomes a republic, but — knowing the wealth of our country 
as they do, reading our high-sounding pretensions, and not 
used to reasoning abstractly on such matters — the " plainness" 
envelopes the American representative in an unescapeable 
atmosphere of meanness. 

The reception of an American Charge, at a foreign court, 
where he is neither a very accomplished gentleman, nor a 
master of the French language, nor possessed of sufficient 
means to make an appearance suitable to his rank, is one of 
such contemptuous toleration, that, if it could be fully realized 
by those seeking the office, it would make most of them willing 
to take much more pains to avoid it. The ceremonious honors 
due his diplomatic rank are carefully paid. He has a grave 
reception by the sovereign. He is called on by the court min- 
isters and the nobility, and by the diplomatists of other coun- 
tries, with strict observance of etiquette. He is invited to the 



VALUATION OF A " FOREIGN APPOINTMENT." 99 



larger entertainments at which his equals in rank are guests 
of necessity. There is an inner society, however, which he 
never sees, but where he furnishes some of the spiciest 
materials for the repast — in the way of ridicule. His blunders, 
in reply to ceremonious speeches, furnish targets for the wit 
that sparkles round him unperceived. His shifts, in the way 
of equipages and the expensive requirements of court costume 
for his family, are being observed and stored up for amuse- 
ment, at the very moments when he is overwhelmed with bows 
and brilliant receptions. He has no other pursuit than diplo- 
macy in which he can show the " political influence" or " bu- 
siness habits" which got him his office. If he live years at a 
capital, and accept invitations from the diplomatists, without 
entertaining in turn, he is the court counterpart of a " gratui- 
tous ticket" at a theatre, and if he entertain, at his own lodgings, 
and on the scale of his own pay, he is simply ridiculous. 
Where idleness is the business of life, and to be agreeable is 
its highest ambition, " a new joke about the American Charge" 
is enough to induce an Ambassador to order up his equipage 
with two chasseurs behind, and drive to twenty palaces, fowthe 
morning call to which " such a good thing" would lend va- 
riety. 

Of course, the favor of ladies puts a man within all this, and 
a young and handsome bachelor, who spoke French perfectly, 
and a man of tact and breeding, might do very well at a foreign 
court, on the pay of an American Charge. To him it would 
be valuable as a school of polite life, and to such an " office, 
seeker," the office might be " a thing that will pay,"— although 
leading to nothing beyond. But, to a man who leaves any- 



100 THE RAG-BAG. 



thing respectable, in the way of a vocation, at home — or to a 
man of family who wishes to retain a sense of proper pride and 
independence — or, more especially, to any man who is not a 
master of courtiers, by his talent and accomplishments, and is 
susceptible to polite contempt of his country and himself — a 
" foreign appointment," as the reader will have seen, is an 
honor of very little attraction in the possessing. 



MOKAL OF MAY MOVING8 



The eruption on the front doors tells us that Spring is at 
hand — the placards of " To Let," in the city, corresponding 
with the outbreak of crocuses in the country, as a sign of the 
season. There is no more significant index of the variable- 
ness of fortunes and worldly conditions, in this country, than 
the general change of residence in May. The majority, pro- 
bably, change for the better, as the majority of citizens are 
doubtless improving in their circumstances, from year to year 
— but it is a question whether habits of restlessness, injurious 
to the important feeling of home, are not bred by these annual 
removals. " Put it one side to think of." 

There is a certain peculiarity, too, which is often charged 
upon New- York, and which may possibly have grown out of 
this custom. How many families are there, who have " kept 
moving," till they are in houses beyond their means, and un- 
suitable to their style of living ? The last house which they 

(101) 



102 THE RAG-BAG. 



finally reach, seems to proclaim that they have overshot the 
mark ; for, dwelling there with closed doors, they are literally 
buried, with four-story monuments over their heads — " lost to, 
the friends from whose fond side they have been taken," and 
occupying of course, only the basement, where they are. Up- 
town is sprinkled thick with these four-story sepulchres. How 
much of that part of the city, indeed, might be planted with 
cypresses, and laid out as the cemetery of victims of premature 
removal, we leave open to conjecture. 

The number of degrees of rent and house-dignity, in New- 
York, and the corresponding means of those who adopt them, 
would be interesting to know. From board at three dollars 
a week to a rent of three thousand dollars a year, is not an 
uncommon transition during the education of a daughter — (a 
" sliding scale" that has its effects !) It is a topic for Hunt's 
statistical Magazine — the Progress TJp-Town, ivith the differ- 
ent stopping places and gradations. From the close packed 
rookeries of Greenwich-street to the scaffolding wilderness 
above Union Square — from Over-run-dom to Semi-done-dom 
— there are, at least, twenty degrees of rent and gentility of 
location. " Friend, go up higher," seems to be the text that 
contains the moving principle of New-York — but the Eev. Mr. 
Beecher, who knows how to hitch worldly wisdom into gospel 
harness, might preach a valuable sermon on the danger of too 
hasty obedience to this Scripture injunction. 



THINGS WASTED. 



A very charming woman, whose toilette had been exceed- 
ingly admired at a late fashionable party, but to whom no 
conversation had been addressed during the evening, declared 
to us, while waiting for her carriage, that she should accept 
invitations hereafter by sending her dress and jewels — allow- 
ing her superfluous remainder to go to bed with a book. The 
appropriateness of this economy in New York fashionable so- 
ciety, seemed to us worthy of mention in print, and it belongs 
in fact, to the spirit of anti-neecllessless and sensible sicbstitutioii 
which is the manifest taste and tendency of the times. The 
strongest argument for a family carriage, in England, is the 
power it gives of attending a friend's funeral by equipage — 
the liveried vehicle, with blinds drawn, expressing quite as 
poignant grief without the owner inside, and with a great 
economy of time and tedium. The poor author's reply to his 
rich host, who pressed the costly meats upon him after his 

(103) 



104 THE RAG-BAG. 



appetite was satisfied—" No, thank you, I'll take the rest in 
money, if you please !" was in the same sensible spirit of sub- 
stitution. 

To button wants upon superfluities, seems to us, in fact, 
the thing for which the age is most ready. "We have, for 
some time, thought of making a suggestion of this kind, and 
we do it more confidently, now that the " money crisis" makes 
it likelier to prove acceptable. 

Unlike any other city in the world, New York is a crowded 
metropolis, with an uninhabited Persepolis in its midst — a 
void within a plethora — an overstocked ground level, with a 
vacant city built over it, at from forty to fifty feet elevation. 
There are hundreds of streets of unoccupied third and fourth 
stories — levels which, in France or England, would be popu- 
lously inhabited. There are long blocks of houses, in every 
part of up -town, through which run uninterrupted lines of 
floors unoccupied. Thus much for the superfluity. 

Now, the crying want of New York is for elegant private 
lodgings. The increasing number of persons who have homes 
in the country, and who wish to pass the winter months in 
the city, but who dislike to subject their families to the pub- 
licity of hotels, makes this a matter worth calling present at- 
tention to. Furnished apartments, that can be hired at a 
moderate annual rent, adapted for convenience and comfort 
only, and to which meals can be sent from a restaurant or 
from a neighboring establishment maintained for the purpose 
— apartments where no show is expected, and which entail no 
care — are more needed than any other accommodation in this 
city. The first step has already been taken, for the supply 
of this convenience so common in every foreign city, and we 



THINGS WASTED. 



105 



were informed last week that the profits of one enterprising 
and well-managing person, who has taken several houses, in 
the neighbourhood of a restaurant, and let them out in this 
way to some of our wealthiest country-house owners, amount- 
ed last year to ten thousand dollars. 

But, the idea, for which we desire that the Court of Com- 
mon Sense should grant us a copyright, is not yet expressed. 
We have shown the superfluity and the want — but there is 
an obstacle to the union of the two. The pride of the dwell- 
ers in tall houses requires, that they should have the front 
door to themselves — also the door-plate and bell-handle — also 
freedom from other people's ash-barrel on the sidewalk edge 
—also the right of entry and staircase, privacy of basement, 
and exclusive control of gas, Croton, and night-key. These, 
(with fashionable neighborhood,) constitute the actual and 
tangible advantages of a " house up town." And we propose 
to continue these, one and all, to the present enjoyers of them, 
— proposing only a better use of their superfluous upper sto- 
ries, thus : — 

Of every five houses in a block, let the central one be taken 
by a landlady of lodgings. The main floor and basement 
might be occupied as a restaurant and cook-shop. The other 
rooms she would let to those who should agree with her for 
an annual rent, paying also for regular service, and for the 
meals she should furnish. Of her neighbors on either side she 
should hire the upper stories, opening an access to them jrom 
the central house, and sealing up the staircases, so as to cut 
off all communication with the families below. In this way, 
an entry, run through the entire block, would be like the long 
5* 



10Q THE KAG-BAG; 



wing of a hotel ; and this appropriation of it, known only to 
the occupants, would be no manner of inconvenience to the 
private residences whose doors and staircases were left undis- 
turbed. For " settling" the uninhabited Third and Fourth 
Stories of New York City — for colonizing and turning to ac- 
count the waste prairies over our heads — we respectfully and 
gratuitously submit this plan to the Public. 



INTEBNATIONAL LIBERALITY. 



One would naturally think that there were two leading aims 
in the diplomatic office : — 1st, to settle the particular business 
between governments,, and 2nd, to pursue a general system 
of effort for the preservation of international good feeling. 
That the latter, (and, it seems to us, the more important,) of 
these two branches of diplomatic duty, is usually little thought 
of, or that no pains are taken about it, by diplomatic men, is 
a conclusion the reader has already arrived at. Ambassadors 
and Ministers have thought it quite enough to attend to their 
negotiations and despatches — and play their part with the per- 
sons in power to whom they were accredited — settling national 
misunderstandings after they had expressed themselves through 
some public measure, and never thinking that an outbreak 
from a lake, which will desolate cities if attended to only when 
it has taken its course, may be stopped by the^ hand at 
starting. 

(107) 



108 



THE RAG-BAG. 



That there is a call, in the liberal spirit of the age, for diplo- 
matists who are capable of something besides intrigue and 
dinner-giving, is seen in the appointments latterly, by the 
English and French Governments, of intellectual and literary 
rather than merely titled men, to represent them at the more 
critical posts of their foreign relations. In sending Sir Henry 
Bulwer to this country, there is a preference of one of the 
ablest writers and most liberal cosmopolites of the time, over 
many a titled courtier to whom Her Majesty could acceptably 
have offered the Mission. Sir Henry Bulwer is a liberal and 
free-thoughted citizen of the world, who has travelled far, and 
resided long in foreign countries, and whose books show him 
to be a most unprejudiced though a very clear-sighted obser- 
ver. He is the right man to come to a republic. The points 
on which we differ from his own country and government, he 
can interpret rightly. He can address himself and his diplo- 
matic errand as well to the people at large as to a Secretary 
of State. His object, as an enlightened Minister, of course, 
is to make England understood here, and make us understood 
in England — and he effects it at the American " Downing 
Street," (which is public expression of opinion,) and submits 
it to the American Prime Minister, (which is the Public 
Press.) 

The reader will understand that w T e are referring to the re- 
cent speech of Sib. Henry Bulwer, at the " St Andrew's 
Dinner" in this city. "We make, below, an extract or two from 
it — though a cold report, of a speech delivered with glowing 
eloquence, as this was, and amid the hilarity of a festive occa- 
sion, can hardly giv<? any tolerable idea of its force and effec- 
tiveness. It was received with tumultuous enthusiasm, and 



INTERNATIONAL LIBERALITY. 109 



unquestionably bound " St. Andrew" and " Brother Jonathan" 
in an indivisible bond of good feeliug. We cut the following 
passages from the report in the Tribune : — 

When the President of the Society had pronounced the seventh 
regular toast : " Sir Henry Bulwer, and the other Representatives of 
Great Britain in the United States," Sir Henry Bulwer rose and 
addressed the company as follows : 

" Mr: President and Gentlemen : — After returning thanks to you, 
sir, who have proposed, and to you, gentlemen, who have so kindly 
welcomed, the toast which has just been given, my first and pleasing 
duty is to pass a just compliment on the noble purposes which inspire 
the institution of which we are now celebrating the anniversary. It 
convinces me that if Scottish charity begins at home, it does not end 
there ; or, perhaps, it convinces me yet more clearly that wherever the 
Scotchman goes he carries his home with him. Yes, gentlemen, that 
is the fact : and if I ever doubted it for an instant, the banners which 
confront me, the Patron Saint under whose auspices the present com- 
pany has assembled, and above all the eloquent and patriotic speech of 
my friend on the. left, (Mr. Irvin, the President,) are sufficient to show 
me that most of those whom I now see collected around me are at this 
very moment, in imagination, at least, in bonnie Scotland. Ay, gen- 
tlemen, 

« Your heart's in the Highlands, your heart is not here ; 
Your heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer — 
A chasing the wild deer and following the roe — 
Your heart's in the Highlands, wherever you go.' 

" But there is one thing" which a Scotchman prizes even more than 
his country. What is that ? looks his neighbour. Why his indepen- 
dence. Let us confess it, however, that noble spirit of independence, 
which the national poet of Scotland describes so magnificently as 

« Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,' 



110 THE BAG BAG. 



has in these, our prosaic days of Gold and California, a very vulgar 
appetite, a very mercantile digestion ; it requires to be fed from the 
pocket. The empty sack finds it difficult to stand up straight, and the 
needy men find it difficult to be independent ; hence it is that on every 
sea and on every shore there are found the hardy and adventurous sons 
of Caledonia, each struggling for his own independence with the same 
undying courage and indomitable perseverance that his ancestors of 
old displayed in common, when fighting under that Bruce and Wallace 
whose glories have been just honoured, for the independence of their 
native mountains. Nor are the products of Scotland untransplantable. 
On the contrary, two of them may be said to adapt themselves to the 
characteristic conditions of the earth, with remarkable peculiarity ; 
wherever the soil is barren, there will grow the Scotch fir ; wherever 
the soil is fertile, there will be sure to thrive the Scotch man. There 
seems, indeed, between his nature and that of prosperity, a sort of 
mesmeric affinity." ****** 

" Englishmen, Scotchmen and Americans — none of you, as I think, 
can be proud of yourselves without being proud of each other : I can- 
not even understand those who, to gratify a paltry vanity, to pamper 
the appetite of a noisy ambition, are at times willing to create discord 
and jealousy and hostility between nations which are bound, by every 
parental, filial and fraternal sentiment, to dwell on terms of harmony 
and unity together. How different the example of which I may be 
reminded by the gentlemen beside me, (Mr. Draper, President of the 
New England Society.) Every one here present knows the melancholy 
fate of one of my most gallant countrymen — too bold in the pursuit 
of Science ! his friends, his countrymen, deplored his loss ; all, save an 
affectionate and ever hope-confiding wife, despaired of his return. Who, 
in that hour of need, came to his rescue 1 If any one ever doubts of 
the feelings which ought to animate and do animate John Bull and 
Brother Jonathan, I shall merely pronounce the names of Grinnell 
and Franklin. [Great cheering.] Gentlemen, I know that I need 



INTERNATIONAL LIBERALITY. HI 



not remind you of the most glorious feat of arms that British troops 
ever performed on the American continent, because among the most 
daring and dashing in that fight were the Master of Lovat's kilted 
Highlanders. But I may call to your recollection, that, on those lofty 
rocks, where the chivalry of France and Britain on that day met, may 
now be seen a monument which, looking down on the mighty river 
that bears the bold mariner to the vast Atlantic, commemorates, in 
one common epitaph, the death and glory of Wolfe and Montcalm. 
Often, while envying the man who erected this monument his noble 
thought, I have deemed there was an idea nobler still — that of doing 
for the living what he did for the dead — that of uniting in some great 
and common cause the fame and name of those two rival States which 
have so long contended for European supremacy, and which still, in 
spite of all the blood and treasure prodigally lavished in their conflicts, 
stand side by side, co-equal in power and renown. 

" But if this is the sentiment which, as an Englishman, I sincerely, 
warmly, and cordially entertain toward France, can I, as an English- 
man, feel it less warmly, less sincerely, less cordially, toward the 
United States of America 1 I will not speak of the obligations of 
interest, or the ties of blood, because, between Great Britain and the 
"United States, there is a cause such as I have just described, which ought 
to bind, which must bind them indissolubly together — a cause more 
noble than the obligations of interest, more sacred than the ties of 
blood — the cause of a common creed, a common language, a common 
literature, a common religion." * * * 

" Gentlemen, you gave my health as representative of Great Britain 
in this country : I have, therefore, thought it a duty to tell you the 
sentiments I brought here : I am a diplomatist, but a diplomatist of 
that school which wishes to see inscribed high over the door of the 
Foreign Office in Downing-st., that golden maxim which is the foun- 
dation of England's commercial greatness, 'Honesty is the best 
Policy.' I am a diplomatist, but one who wishes to banish from his 



ll2 THE RAG-BAG, 



profession, the sly whisper and the paltry intrigue, and to trust boldly 
to open speech and public opinion." * * * 

" Gentlemen, I will frankly tell you, I think it ought to be the am- 
bition of a British Envoy to the United States, not only to 'convince 
the head of the State Department of his upright intentions, but also, to 
convince the heart and understanding of the American people. (Great 
cheering.) These are my opinions — do you share them? (Loud 
cries of ' Yes.') "Well, then, let me make all of you — kith, kin and 
clan — members of my legation ; let me attach all of you to my 
mission. 

" Let me induce you, Americans, to tell the American who vitupe- 
rates Great Britain — and you, Britons, to tell the Englishman or 
Scotchman who does injustice to America, that, after all, it is but ' a 
dirty bird that fouls his own nest.' Let the latter teach the parents 
that their just pride should be in the prosperity of their children — 
let the former teach the child that no people has ever performed any 
work worthy of prosperity, which did not honor and respect their 
ancestors. 

" Finally, let us all pray that if any contest is for the future to find 
a place in our annals, that it shall be no other than that of which yon- 
der work of art (pointing to a beautiful model of a steamship in sugar 
before him) appropriately reminds me — the contest of the two C's 
over the great Sea — of Messrs. Collins and Cunard over the Atlantic — 
(great laughter) — a contest which has for its enlightened and friendly 
object to bring the thoughts and feelings of one of the great divisions 
of the world within the shortest possible time, in communication with 
those of the other." 

The effect of one such speech, as this from which we have 
given fragments, is better than a year's work in the old school 
of diplomacy. A new school of diplomacy was well needed, 
too, between this country and England. Steam is pulling the 
two nations very close together, and we must, now, be either 



INTERNATIONAL LIBERALITY. H3 

very useful and agreeable friends, or very bitter and trouble- 
some foes. Diplomacy is most ivanted to prevent the Presses 
of the two countries 'from exasperating them into international 
hostility. England's Press is the voice of the Minority — our 
Press is the voice of the Majority — and of course they can 
never agree. If our own upper classes of citizens had news- 
papers to express their opinions, (which they have not,) those 
papers would differ just as offensively with our present Press 
as the English papers do, and for the same reason. It is a 
quarrel between two pyramids, the top-stone doing the fight- 
ing on one side and the foundation doing it on the other — one 
abusing the whole of the other pyramid for not being all top, 
and the other the ivhole of his opponent for not being all 
foundation. 

"We repeat, that a liberal speech from a " man in authority," 
which unsays the prejudiced sneers of a short-sighted Press, 
on either side of the water, and is read by The People at 
large, is the highest and best exercise of diplomacy for this 
country. Those who are unrepresented in type, on both sides 
of the water, should appreciate it, and we should be prompt 
and warm in our value and honor for a man like Sir Henry 
Bulwer, while we are privileged to have him among us. 



INACCESSIBLE PICTURES AND STATUARY. 



The coming season for influx of strangers, reminds us of 
something we have often been tempted to propose, viz: — 
the establishment of some usage or arrangement by which the 
many fine works of Art, in private possession, could be seen 
by those who are on a visit to the city. New- York is rich in 
pictures and statuary, to which there is no access except by 
acquaintance with the proprietor. Europeans are more repub- 
lican than we, in this respect, for there are days set apart, by 
every owner of a fine gallery, when the public can be admit- 
ted. The right to monopolize what is above a certain degree 
of excellence, in objects of Art, is not recognized by Public 
Opinion, under Monarchical governments. The principle is a 
general and sound one. Mr. Astor might easily buy all the 
land around Niagaja, so that the greatest wonder of nature 
could only be approached by ringing at his gate — but the 
Public would not recognise his right to shut out a single 

(114) 



INACCESSIBLE PICTURES AND STATUARY. 115 



visitor. There is a degree of excellence, in every beautiful 
object, that is alone of its kind, above which exclusive property 
ceases — (with the single exception, of course, of the beauty of 
a wife.) There is more in the " Greek Slave" than one man 
would have a right to own and sequestrate from public view 
— more in Powers's " Proserpine" — more in Crawford's 
I Orpheus" — -more in any of the master -pieces by Leslie and 
Newton, Page and Gray. 

But, here and there, in New- York, there is a door-bell — 
looking as inexpressive as any other door-bell, and at which 
the stranger feels no particular liberty to ring — which is the 
" open-sesame" to collections of Art, made with great cost and 
care. Pictures which are, in a certain sense, works of Nature 
— produced by accidents of mood and inspiration, and wholly 
irreproducible — have been appreciatively purchased by the 
resident in that house ; and there they hang upon his walls, 
viewed by his family and friends only — the Public at the same 
time having that right to enjoy them, which is based upon 
their singleness of type, and pre-eminence of beauty. 

On the part of most of the owners of these gems of Art, the 
monopoly is neither willing nor intentional. They would 
gladly share their pleasure with those who could appreciate 
what they possess. The custom, only, is wanting. At pre- 
sent, it would look as obtrusive and forward, to offer the Pub- 
lic admission to a private house, to see pictures at certain 
hours, as it would seem obtrusive and forward in a stranger 
to claim it. It is time, therefore, for some change in the mere 
usage and understanding on such matters.^ 

Por lack of a better suggestion, why should not the keepers 
of the principal Hotels be entrusted with tickets of admission 



116 



THE RAG-BAG. 



to the twenty or thirty houses worth visiting for their embel- 
lishments of Art — the tickets valid only on certain days and : 
at certain hours ? These gentlemen know their guests, and! 
know who of our citizens have treasures of painting and stat- • 
uary. There are parties of our first people, from other parts 
of the country, in constant succession, who are comparatively 1 
unoccupied during the long mornings, and to whom it would ! 
be a most instructive luxury to be able to visit the works of ' 
Art in the private galleries and residences of the city. We 
know of collections, and single pictures, which it is a pity a 
stranger should leave town without seeing, and which they 
would be welcome to see — the taste to buy a fine picture 
belonging, usually to a nature liberal in all else. We do not 
think New-Yorkers are aware how many gems of Art are 
within the limits of the city, nor how easily they might be 
made open and accessible to all. 



QUESTION FOE NEW YOEK CLUBS 



Is it not time for the New York Clubs to recognise, by 
some law of preference, or some formal act, that, by the Ame- 
rican standard, a man is more a gentleman for having had 
something to do with trade or commerce ? Such is the case 
| — an idle man, a literary man, or an Army or Navy man, be- 
,ing much less of a personage in New York than a successful 
imerchant — and our country is big enough, populous enough, 
and powerful enough to have a standard of its own, and 
(right or wrong) to have it understood in other countries ; so 
junderstood, that is to say, that it will be only necessary to 
know a man is an American, to know also that he cannot be 
of the class which is highest in his own country, unless he has 
shown that he can make money. 

The standard in England is quite the contrary ; but, while 
we let England take which she pleases of her own subjects to 
be gentlemen, we demand a like privilege, of course, for Ame- 

(117) 



118 THE RAG-BAG. 






rica. We demand to settle, for ourselves, who are. gentlemen, 
and we claim that England, in classifying our countrymen, 
should use our standard and not her own. It is on this ground 
that we think the following movement (mentioned in the cor- 
respondence of the Tribune) illiberal, and wanting in proper 
international respect : — 

" The London Times mentions a thing, hoping it is not true 
for the honor of English hospitality, that the members of the 
United Service Club have refused to extend to the U. S. Na- 
vy Officers of the St. Lawrence, the usual civility given to 
foreign officers, of having the run of the Club during their 
stay. The reason assigned for this is, that the officers of the 
St. Lawrence have been engaged in mercantile service ! The 
taking part in anything industrial — contributing to Produc- 
tion and "Wealth, opposed to War, Murder and Robbery, is 
deemed by these journeymen butchers as dishonorable, and 
a slight is accordingly put upon the officers so degrading 
themselves." 

Now, as our readers know, there is no authority like a 
London Club, for a decision as to who is a gentleman. A 
movement like the above is the most authentic and grave ex- 
pression of England's opinion. The American Navy officers 
who took charge of the United States ship which the Govern- 
ment lent to American Industry to convey its goods to the 
World's Eair, did thereby forfeit, (according to the English 
Club standard) their admissibility to the hospitalities reserved 
for gentlemen. As to the correctness of the standard itself 
we repeat, we have nothing to say. England may decide In- 
dustry to be beneath a gentleman, if she like. But, we repeat 
secondly, it is nationally discourteous to subject Americans 
to the same standard — Americans, whose best claim to high j 



QUESTION FOR NEW YORK CLUES. H9 

position and consideration at home, is the very power to make 
money which they thus vote to be vulgar. 

That this expression of opinion, by England, is not from 
ignorance, but from a long-entertained dislike to our national 
vehemence of pursuit for the almighty dollar, and our forget- 
tings of some other respectable values meantime, let us show 
by a little extract from an article by Leigh Hunt. This able 
-writer has abundant reason for complaining as he does, but it 
is in the general assertions he makes as to our national char- 
acter, that he shows the common feeling we refer to. Speak- 
ing of the pirated editions of his own works by American pub- 
lishers, he says : — 

" A few years ago I received a copy of another Boston edi- 
, tion, the publisher of which was so good as to say that he had 
heard of a new one from my pen, which he would be very 
happy to print also, if I would send it to him. Not a syllable 
} did he add about the happiness of disbursing a cent for the 
j permission ! I should like to know what an American pub- 
i lisher would say, if some 'English traveller were to help him- 
i self to the fruits of his labor out of his till, and make off with 
them on board ship. Being a cousin-germane of the Ameri- 
cans, I am very popular in their country, and receive from 
them every compliment imaginable, except a farthing's pay- 
ment ! How came my mother to be born in such a country ! 
I love the women there for her sake, especially the Philadel- 
phia women. I respect, also, every American that differs 
with his bookseller ; and I hold in due favor their Bryants, 
their Emersons, their Lowells and their ambassadors. But I 
wish I could get rid of the impression which I have before 
mentioned ; to wit, that one great shop counter extends all 
down their coast, from Massachusetts to Mexico. "Why do 
they not learn that there is something else in the world beside 
puffing and money-getting ? Money-getting republics may 



120 THE RAG-BAG. 



be the millennium of the mercantile ; but they are neither the 
desires of human nature, nor of merchants themselves when 
they come to be lords." 

Without defending the American standard, or expressing 
here, (though we have done it elsewhere,) how it might be 
advantageously modified and varied, we simply wish to call 
attention to the fact that our standard differs from that of 
England, and that England arrogantly insists on measuring 
our gentlemen by her own. But Americans act very differ- 
ently, and certainly more liberally. "We receive all England's 
lords and gentry at the same valuation which a Court and a 
Club set upon them in England. The Pall-Mali standard is 
" at par" in Broadway — indeed we might say it is rather " at 
a premium." Now, where is our national pride that we can- 
not, in turn, subject Englishmen to our standard, when they 
come here ? A lord, setting his rank aside, is nothing but 
" an idle loafer, who couldn't make a cent to save his life," 
and why not reject such from the hospitalities of New York 
Clubs, and invite only English merchants and English trades- 
men, who can turn a penny like our own American aristocra- 
cy ? ¥e ask the question only by way of suggestion. 
Should there not be a Wall street Club, where we can return 
the compliment, to say the least — a club of ancestors themselves, 
so to speak, of which none could be members but those from 
whom others are to descend ; and to which no idle Englishman 
could be invited who had descended from the distinguished 
first makers of fortune. The subject " opens up," and wants 
talking about, we think. 



LETTEE ON PASSING TOPICS. 



Visit to the Residence of the late Mr. Downing — Com- 
ing Sale of that beautiful spot, and thoughts there- 
upon — Visit to Mr. Clay's Law Office at Lexington, 
and Description of it — Sontag, pointed out by Theo- 
dore Pay, while conversing with the King of Prussia 
in an Opera-Box at Berlin — Hee. curious history — 
Thackeray — His Personal Appearance and Manners — 
Probabilities of Popularity here — Anecdote of him, 
etc. etc. 

Hudson Highlands, Sept. 

Dear Morris: — 

I have been wandering about the grounds of Downing's 

beautiful residence this afternoon, recalling his taste -imbued 

features and gentle and sweet manners, by the beautiful 

things he had gathered around him, and I wish I could give 

6 (121) 



122 THE RAG-BAG. 



expression to some portion of the tender memory of this be- 
loved friend of ours, which my visit to his home has awak- 
ened. If you were here, I should say much. There is little 
that I can write, which would at all express the spirit of 
mournful regrets in which it has passed through my mind, 
but, to one thought which seems to me to have some weight 
as a matter of general interest, let me call your attention. 

Downing's mind is still here. It is alive in a thousand 
plants and flowers, and it continues to influence the times to 
which he belonged, by models of beauty in grounds and archi- 
tecture, which are everywhere being occupied and made per- 
manent. Of that smaller World of Taste and Eefmement 
which is so overshadowed and so much neglected and forgot- 
ten amid the larger "World of Enterprise and Ambition, he 
was the ever-reminding, ever-diffusing prophet. If the zeal 
and industry with which he followed this good and humaniz- 
ing work had been given to business for his own mere advan- 
tage, his mind, now still living and beneficent among us, 
would be buried but in the books of a bank, and a blessing 
but to those who were his heirs. 

It is to be one of the immediate and painful results of his 
thus having lived most for others, that Downing's family (I 
am told) are compelled to relinquish the possession of the 
lovely spot where he resided. It is very soon to be sold to 
relieve the estate of its embarrassments. The thought which 
is finding its way to you in this letter, my dear Morris, is a 
wish that the lesser World of Taste, of which I spoke, may 
be well advised of what a treasure is here offered to some one 
of its number. It is a little Eden of beauty just perfected. 
Every tree is grown— every shrub developed and in its place 



LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 123 

— every object of out-of-door ornament and Art thought of, 
brought from a distance and adjusted to its surroundings — 
the plants and flowers of every clime of our prodigal earth so 
carefully and thrivingly represented as to form a constant 
study — the views over the lovely Hudson arranged in glimpses 
artistically contrived — the house, in the midst of all this, a 
perfect study of comfort and elegance. And, one thing more. 
The neighborhood is such a one as Downing might well have 
chosen to live in. The drives are unsurpassed for romance 
and loveliness of scenery, and the costly and beautiful resi- 
dences of men of taste gem the surrounding hills as far as the 
eye can reach. So sweet a home in so charming a neighbor- 
hood could not be found in our country. 

I would not have so beautiful a gem as this sacrificed at a 
sale of which those most likely to be interested might near 
nothing. There are those who, (instead of making a country 
seat) wish to buy one that is ready to be enjoyed ; and who are 
willing to pay justly for what it has cos't taste and pains to 
complete and bring together. Into some such hands of liberal 
refinement I hope the place may fall. A sale which should 
measure its worth by the number of feet in its acres and the 
elevation of bricks in its walls, would be an injustice to the 
memory of Downing and a wrong to the family that survives 
him. Add, in a note to this published letter, if you can, the 
time* fixed upon for the sale, and let us hope that it may 

* Country Seat at Auction.— For sale at public auction, on Thursday, 
7th. October, at twelve o'clock, M. upon the premises, at Newburg, N. 
Y , the residence of the late A. J. Downing, consisting of a dwelling 
house, of the Elizabethan order of architecture, and between five and six 
acres of land. As this place was the entire creation of Mr. Downing, 



124 THE RAG-BAG. 



bring togeth<>" those who will put upon the property its just 
value and appreciation. I may aptly give emphasis to what I 
thus suggest, perhaps, by recalling to your mind a passage in 
one of his books where he defines the spirit in which his home 
has been formed and embellished. He says : 

"In cultivated country life every thing lends its aid to 
awaken the finer sentiments of our nature. The occupations 
of our country are full of health for both soul and body, and 
for the most refined as well as the most rustic taste. The 
heart has there, always within its reach, something on which 
to bestow its affections. We beget a partiality for every copse 
that we have planted, every tree which has for years given us 
a welcome under its shady boughs. Every winding path 
through the woods, every secluded resting-place in the valley, 
every dell where the brook lives and sings, becomes part of 
our affections, friendships, joys and sorrows. Happy is he 
who lives this life of a cultivated mind in the country." 

You will readily see the association of memories by which 
I turn from Downing's working-place to the working-place of 
Henry Clay — his law-office — which I visited a few weeks ago 
at Lexington. It was a small room opening directly upon the 

and a complete embodiment of his art, it possesses a greater combination 
of natural beauty in its river and mountain view, and exquisite taste in 
its adornment than any place in the United States of its size. Though 
of moderate extent, and in the immediate neighborhood of a large town, 
yet such is the consummate skill and taste in its arrangement, that it 
has all the appearance of a large place— abounding in every variety of the 
finest fruit, and adorned by the rarest trees and flowers. Immediately 
after the sale of the place, a portion of furniture, pictures, vases, green- 
house plants, etc, will be disposed of. For further particulars, or per- 
mission to view the premises, apply to J. J. Monell, Chas. Downing, 
Newburg, or H. W. Sargent, Fishkill Landing, executors. 



LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 125 

sidewalk of a street much frequented. A large livery-stable 
was just opposite, and its long line of unhoused vehicles 
extended along in front of the office door, while a group of 
stablemen and their hangers-on were discoursing of horse- 
flesh, in tones that must have been habitually audible to the 
great statesman at his desk. There was no one in the office, 
and the door was open. A small and common desk, with a 
leaf which turned up by a hinge, formed, with two chairs, the 
only furniture — a naked arena, indeed, for a mind so plumed 
and equipped ! Yet there was something within the bare walls 
which made me feel that my head should be uncovered while 
standing within them. The suffusion of blood over the heart, 
which one feels at a great thought suddenly expressed, or at 
the sound of a trumpet, came over me. Mr. Clay was still 
living, but the morning's news had pronounced his recovery 
hopeless. Never more would that tall form, with the knightly 
port and mien, enter that humble door to unlock the humble 
desk at which his, the most princely spirit of the age, had pa- 
tiently achieved its fame. A resentful thought at the weapons 
with which modern chivalry must achieve its triumphs, if at 
all, was mingled with the tearful homage with which I remem- 
bered him who had there used them, 

I am fairly embarked, I believe, my dear Morris, upon a 
letter of a more personal vein than is my more willing and safer 
wont. I will pursue it — but let me turn from these sad mem- 
orials of the great who have gone from us, and close my gos- 
sip as soldiers come away from a comrade's funeral — the dead 
march changed suddenly to a quick step. 

Sontag is with you — a bird from a palace-garden, to whom 
common ears may well feel privileged to listen. Like Jenny 



1%Q THE KAG-BAG. 



Lind, she sings to hearts bespoken long before. This is a 
country where — more than anywhere else in the world — ad- 
miration plays second to the remembrance of what the song- 
stress is as a woman. "Whatever notes may come from it, her 
throat will have far more enchantment for the pride it has 
choked down and swallowed to do the brave thing for a 
husband in misfortune. A half hour's study of Sontag's fea- 
tures and her position to the world which I once had while 
abroad, comes vividly back to me. I was at the Opera in 
Berlin, and our old friend and partner, Theodore Fay, Secre- 
tary at that court where she was an Ambassadress, sat by me. 
He suddenly touched my arm and called my attention to a 
couple who were conversing in one of the decorated boxes 
near the stage. The lady was dressed in light blue, with costly 
lace and diamonds, and sat with one wrist gracefully crossed 
over the other, a profusion of blonde curls falling richly about 
a face of great naturalness and simplicity — altogether, I thought, 
a lovely picture of a woman. A stout gentleman, plainly 
dressed, leaned towards her with a manner of marked earnest- 
ness. " There," said Fay, " is a picture that will interest you 
— Madam Sontag, Countess of Eossi — the king is talking to 
her." I was never more grateful to a friendly cicerone — but, 
though it was the first time I had seen either of those who 
were thus pointed out to me, I looked little at the king. 
"While I studied the gentle and sweet features of the one he 
looked so desirous to please, Fay, who saw her constantly in 
society, expressed the highest admiration for the degree to 
which her character and manners embellished the station 
which she held — eulogizing her, as a wife and mother as well 
as the greatest favorite at court, in terms such as he is not 



LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 127 

the man to misapply or use lightly.* How strange seemed 
ber position as I then saw her ! She had forgone, for love 
and a home, the homage of the world at large ; but how un- 
likely would it be that the respectful homage of a king would 
follow the singer in retirement thus preferred ! Her path of 
destiny seemed high throughout. I regretted, at the time, 
that her brilliant gifts should be hid, even thus happily, from 
common sharing and admiring, little anticipating that a turn 
of misfortune in that bright path would bring her to our shores 
as a songstress, years after. 

Thackeray is about taking the bold step of coming over 
bodily to displace his ideal — an experiment which Dickens and 
Kossuth found so disastrous, and upon which few authors or 
heroes that ever lived could safely venture. The soul and the 
body seldom look alike. Once demigod-ed a man had best 
stay in his cloud. What sort of descriptions do you suppose 
the " correspondents of the country papers" would give of 
Milton, if he were to re -appear and. walk Broadway for a 
month ? America is, to English authors, an optional poster- 
ity—the broad Atlantic being a well-adjusted magnifying 

* There is very high, corroboration of this in a recent letter of Mr. 
Walsh to the Intelligencer. He writes, from Paris : — 

" Before this reaches you, you will probably have hailed in the United 
States the rising there of one of the most brilliant stars of the musical 
firmament — the Sontag. Before leaving Europe, Madame Sontag gave a 
farewell concert at Baden, where she took leave of numerous royal and 
aristocratic personages, her admirers and friends, the King of Wurtem- 
berg, the Prince and Princess of Prussia, Archdukes of Baden, and nu- 
merous members of diplomatic corps in whose circle she moved with 
great distinction, for many years, as the wife of the diplomat, Count 
Rossi. You will see in Madame Sontag as complete a specimen of the 
elegant, high-bred, aristocratic lady as Europe has ever sent to America." 



128 



THE KAG-BAG; 



glass which produces the same effect as the trans-envy-and 
competition of the Styx. I used to know Thackeray in Lon- 
don. He was our correspondent, you recollect, six or seven 
years ago — then in the chrysalis of his present renown. He 
is more likely to be personally popular, I think, than any other 
contemporary English author would be, on this side the water. 
He is a tall man, of large frame, and features roughly cast — 
the expression of his face rather " no-you-don't" and Great- 
Britain-ous, but withal very fearless and very honest. He has 
(or had) no symptom of the dandy about him. Above twad- 
dle, by the lift of his genius, and not having had either 
prosperity or personal beauty enough, in early life, to contract 
any permanent illusions, he is (or was) more blunt and peremp- 
tory in address and conversation than will be expected of a 
fashionable author. He is satirical on the surface, genial at 
heart. In taking a mutton-chop with him occasionally, at the 
" Blue Posts," in company with a publisher who was our 
mutual friend, I remember being struck with the degree to 
which the hot punch, in the silver tankard after dinner, soften- 
ed his criticism of new books and brother authors. By knowing 
his intimates, I learned a circumstance which I will venture 
to record. His father was wealthy, and his family, of a patri- 
cian descent, had known only prosperous ease till adversity 
came to sting one of them into fame. The only remainder of 
the household in its ancient state, was an old and faithful serving 
man, whom Thackeray, while earning his first difficult bread 
with his pen, continued to maintain in the old drab and gold 
family livery — half starving himself to do it. There was 
" blood and game" in this, which gave a key to what he would 
always be true to. 



LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 129 

Is my letter long enough ? I think it is. Yet 1 have half 
a dozen passing topics I meant to touch, while in the vein : — 
Alboni's arrival — the death of Count D'Orsay — "Wallack's 
welcome return — a book by my old Constantinople friend 
Honan — one or two new poets whose flights it is time to speak 
of, etc., etc. But I will say adieu where I am. 
Yours, etc. 

6* 



EDITOEIAL MEMOEANDA. 



THE WASTES OP THIS CITY. 

That New- York is, as yet, settled hut one family deep, 

while other cities are settled three deep, on an average, is a 
fact that should be mentioned in connection with the difficulty 
of getting tolerable lodgings. Strangers who do not like the 
gregarious life at hotels and boarding-houses, are as much 
embarrassed in this great city, as travellers on a prairie — the 
second story level being an uninhabited waste. In Paris and 
London, people of the highest rank feel no objection to occu- 
pancy of a single floor of a house, taking the chance as to who 
may lodge above or below them. They would consider the 
New-York prejudice, of a whole house being necessary to 
the dignity of a family, as a whim that took up quite too 
much room. Consequently, there is a population on 
the ground floor— another population twenty feet above 

(130) 



EDITORIAL MEMORANDA. 131 

ground — another at thirty feet, and another at forty— and it 
is found that mankind pack, even four deep, in this way, with 
no material evil, but, on the contrary, with great advantages 
of economy and convenience. 

One would suppose that the limited breadth of the island 
of Manhattan, and the inconveniences of omnibussing over 
the great distances to which it has stretched with this grow- 
ing population of one thickness, would have suggested a remi- 
gration, along through the unoccupied second stories. Why 
so practicable a people as we, should copy every change of 
head-dress from Paris, and leave, unthought of and un-imitated, 
a usage of such economical utility, is a pretty subject for din- 
ner table discussion. Let us add to the spiciness of the won- 
der, by reminding the reader, that, with the present enormous 
rents of New-York, there is not .one family in a hundred, 
whose house-rent is not out of all proportion, both to their 
income and other expenditure. 

Anywhere but in America, there i»no u style" dependent on 
being the only family under the roof. "We underline the asser- 
tion because we wish it to catch the eye of the public, and 
sow a seed of suggestion. It would be of no little use, if the 
idea could get abroad, that a man, with more .house-room 
than he actually requires, could let the unoccupied apartments 
without any compromise of dignity. The other foreign usages 
— of porters in the basement story, of neighboring restaurants 
for dinners, of conveniences for breakfast and lunch, etc., etc. 
—would readily be adopted with the spread of the custom; 
and our city would thus have every luxury within everybody's 
reach. At present we are like a sliced pine-apple spread mea- 
gerly over a vast dish, and Chelsea and Williamsburg, Brook- 



132 THE RAG-BAGf. 



lyn and Jersey City are but the third and fourth stories of 
down-town, laid inconveniently and ostentatiously off into 
suburbs. The omnibusses needed by these removed upper 
stories, to go between business and home, encumber the 
thoroughfares ; and, while the families are out of the reach 
of theatres and other pleasurable resorts, they are needlessly 
separated all day, from fathers and brothers. We could spin 
out a deal of speculation, on this difference between New- 
York, a city with one layer of population, and foreign cities 
with three or four layers on the same extent of ground, but 
we leave it with this brief mention — trusting, however, that 
those who like a city of manageable size, and those who have 
lots to sell between Fiftieth and One-Hundredth streets will 
argue the point thoroughly ; and decide the perpendicular 

thickness to which a city population can be packed to the best 
advantage. 



A BROADWAY STIR. 

The lower part of Broadway — below Barnum, that 

is to say — is pretty much given over to business and the mas- 
culine gender. Ladies seen south of St. Paul's, except in 
omnibus, excite that certain indefinable curiosity, which, like 
the active attention to a glimpse of a petticoat in a monastery, 
arises from our sinner's interest, in things apparently astray. 
The impression, consequently, from seeing a lady come out 
of Delmonico's, contains a certain indefinable difference from 
the impression of seeing the same lady come out of the New- 
York Hotel — define it at your leisure. This, or perhaps the 
magnetism of a pair of boots such as usually contain a voter, 



EDITORIAL MEMORANDA. 133 



but were then occupied by one of the un- constituent sex, drew 
a crowd of two or three hundred persons, the other day, to the 
front of the masculine Hotel above mentioned — patient spec- 
tators, all, of the very ordinary phenomenon of a lady about 
mounting a horse. The horse had his objections. A man's 
hat, a riding habit of cloth of our wear, boots of indefinite 
extent, and whip held with an air of unmistakeable efficacy, 
seemed to fail of their ordinary control. T^he stable-man drew 
the spirited animal again and again to the edge of the side- 
walk, and, as often, the lady tried in vain to get her foot in 
the stirrup. After repeated failures she re-ascended the steps 
of the Hotel, and stood observing the groom's efforts to quiet 
the horse, not at all disconcerted by the very large audience 
that was assembled, and, in fact, the whole affair, with the 
circular Bowling Green below, looking like a scene in a 
circus. 

Presently came along a plainly dressed man who had 
an idea, and no objection to lend it. He knew how to pro- 
duce submission (probably in quadrupeds only) to female 
domination. The horse was coaxed up to the sidewalk ouce 
more, and, stepping to the other side, the man took up the off 
fore leg, and held it while the lady mounted, the animal having 
evidently no confidence in resistance on three legs. Once in 
the saddle, she put on the whip, caracoled up and down in 
front of the Hotel till the pace was disciplined to her mind, and 
ihen, quietly dropping the reins, walked her steed tranquilly 
toward the South Eerry. The crowd looked after her till she 
was out of sight, it being very busily whispered about, that 
the load, thus unwillingly borne away, was no less than the 
indomitable will of the celebrated Mrs. Fanny Kemble. 



13 4 THE RAG-BAG. 



We have mentioned this slight incident with a view to com- 
parative philosophy — for, (and we ask it with a courage to 
bespeak, for our sex, any experience that is in the course of 
nature,) is there no process, corresponding to this lifting of 
the off fore leg, which may be brought to bear as a persuader 
on the resistance to female domination ? 

Not wishing, by the way, to injure the character of the sta- 
ble from which so contrary an animal was furnished for a 
lady's use, we quote, from an exchange paper, an anecdote 
illustrative of the magnetism by which the unsubmissive ani- 
mal was doubtless clairvoyantly effected : — 

" Fanny Kemble is to resume her readings here shortly. When 
she was at the Kevere house, a waiter carried in her dinner a trifle 
before the appointed hour. She was writing, and impatient of inter- 
ruption, glanced at her watch, and beckoned to him angrily to 
take the viands away again. He hesitated. "Is 't five o'clock ?" said 
the tragedienne, fixing such an eye upon him as made the dishes 
shake in his hands. " It lacks but three minutes of it !" he meekly 
urged. "I dine at five !" thundered the ex-actress, and brought down her 
weighty arm with such force upon her desk, that it nearly took the 
astonished waiter off his feet. A moment served him to make him- 
self missing. Her price for reading in country lyceums is fifty dol- 
lars and found." — Boston Correspondence of the Salem, (Mass.) 
Register. 



'ladies' dresses, just now. 
The French have a verb, se pavaner (derived from the 



Latin for peacock,) which would be a useful transfer to our lan- 
guage, for, by no single English word can one convey the 
same meaning. A dashing lady, at present, with the long 



EDITORIAL MEMORANDA. 135 

train of her silk dress sweeping the sidewalk of Broadway, 
does, certainly, for example, look as much out of place, a-foot 
on such an uncleanly promenade, as a peacock does, among 
such barn-door fowl as hold their tails higher up, and the 
French would say, with perfect descriptiveness, of a lady so 
promenading, elle se pavanait. What nature meant, by giving 
to birds of such plumage the instinct to walk the barn -yard 
promiscuously with the plebeian poultry more fitly feathered, 
is as inexplicable as what ladies mean — by sweeping the 
street with dresses only designed for the carpeted drawing- 
room, or for those who have a carriage — but the fact is before 
us, in nature and in the present fashion, and we need a word 
to describe it. May we humbly propose that, to peacoc/cify, 
shall express, hereafter, the walking abroad in a dress unsuit- 
able to the place and its natural befallings ? 



TOWN GOSSIP FOE THE COTJNTEY, 

(in a letter to the lady-subscriber at a distance.) 



Oct. — , 1850. 
Dear Friend :— - 

I am envying you the glories of this most brilliant of the I 

months — writing from the stone-coloured and dusty city as I ' 

do. I wonder that I and other people, indeed, should return 

to town till October is over. We fancy that Mrs, Nature is , 

losing her charms, because she shrinks a little with the sudden I 

change at the Equinox — but no ! Staggered as she is with I 

the discovery of the lessened warmth of the Sun, (to whom 

she has been faithful from the first bud given to his embrace,) » 

it lasts only till she is sure that he is cooling past return, i 

That certain — with the pique of wounded pride, she deter- | 

mines to show that she is even lovelier than when he wooed 

her in her April, and that she can have admiration from a 

younger worshipper if she wants it. October, therefore, is * 

what we should stay to see — Dame Nature's flirtation tvith 

(136) 



TOWN GOSSIP. 137 



the Rainboio, in revenge for the desertion of the Sun— and mag- 
nificently she looks, in the colors of the fickle coxcomb 1 

' Time and imprisoned love make not a prude, 
And warm the gift we know to be the last." 

But this is not the gossip I sat down to give you. 

The newest topic I have heard discussed is the law of fash- 
ionable propriety as to when and where ladies may go unat- 
tended by gentlemen. It w r as suggested by a circumstance 
that took place the other evening. A wealthy foreigner, a 
man of rank, who is on a visit to this country, and staying at 
one of our hotels, feeling disinclined to go to the play, his lady, 
who wished to go, did what she might have done in Europe — 
took her dressing maid and went without him. Her coachman 
purchased the tickets at the box-office, but on the presentation 
of these by the Countess and her maid, the door-keeper re- 
. fused admittance. He had instructions to pass no unendorsed 
angels — no ladies, unless made respectable by the company of 
gentlemen — at that entrance of the house. 
- This amusing refusal to admit the only titled auditor of the 
evening, on scruples of respectability, set the uptown philos- 
ophy to speculating on " first principles." The necessity of 
excluding Vice is readily allowed, but why a door-keeper of a 
theatre should not know Virtue when he sees it, and be able 
to let in propriety and exclude impropriety, is the wonder na- 
turally suggested by the- circumstance. In a free republic, 
and in these enlightened days, should a lady be such a mere 
shadow as to be able to go no-where without a gentleman ? 
How far is this slavery advisable 7 Should not Fashionable 
Society take the lead in disenthralling the sex — no less from 



138 THE RAG-BAG. 



inconvenient restraints than from being a needless burthen to 
friends, brothers and husbands 1 In a land where women are 
more honored, and better protected, than in any land on earth, 
should there not be a national etiquette, giving them the free- 
dom and safety of Moore's " lady with the snow-white wand ?" 

These are some of the questions that have sprung from the 
discussion, and they have been argued with more zest, from 
the gradual Europeanizing of New York, as to the general 
habits of the upper classes. Of late, for instance, it is not 
considered Fifth- Avenue-able, for an unmarried young lady 
to ride unattended in an omnibus — nor to be seen in Broad- 
way without a carriage or servant — nor to go unchaperoned 
to the play with a young gentleman — all of which newly for- 
bidden things, and others of the same kind, were considerable 
and innocent privileges of the restrained sex. The energy 
and eloquence with which these points are argued, show that 
the supremacy of woman in this country has brought inde- 
pendence in its train, and that no uncomfortable usage is like- 
ly to be copied from Europe without " trying on." 

It is a pity there is not a Court of such matters, or some 
acknowledged authority for their discussion and settlement. 
Queen Christina instituted an order of nobility for both sexes — 
(the Order of Amaranth) — which might be copied in this 
country, it seems to me, with great propriety and advan- 
tage. Hearing a very beautiful and very superior woman 
talking of these unsettled points of etiquette, the other day, I 
could not help wondering that such manifestly born leaders of 
society had not found some shape of incorporation for their 
natural authority. "Why should not a nobility of refinement 
be founded in America, for this and like purposes — an Order 



TOWN GOSSIP. 139 



of Amaranth for both sexes — which should decide for us the 
difficult questions of manners and society 1 At the mere 
mention of such a thing, one's mind suggests women who 
would be the perfection of Amaranthians — superior in all the 
gifts by which Nature ennobles, and sure to be acknowledged 
even by republican acclamation, as worthy of a rank above 
others. "Why should not " Hon." be put before their names 
at once, on every note sent them, and written on every card 
left at their doors, and their titles be thus conferred, by a tacit 
and unanimous election ? I shall go and leave a card for an 
Hon. Amaranthian, this very day ! 

Nothing very new in the way of amusements, except the 
French prima donna's hiring Astor-Place, and giving an Ope- 
ra " on her own hook" — an experiment like giving a dinner on 
a very well-cooked bit of beef, and leaving the vegetables to 
be eaten raw, Madame de Vriess, herself in the part of 
Norma, " saved a trifle," of course, by casting her husband in 
the part of the faithless lover; and his attempts to sing Polli- 
one's apologies to his lady-love caused the audience no little 
merriment. Norma's chief business, in the opera, being the 
utterance of a wronged woman's indignant reproaches, the 
vehement bullying which she was obliged to give her husband 
from time to time, chimed exactly with the feelings of the 
audience towards him, and those passages were rapturously 
encored. She must be owned to have had a kind of success, 
however. Though hardly a note of the Opera, by the other 
characters, was tolerably sung, there was great applause. 
The truth was, that her own natural magnetism worked upon 
the audience. She is a tall, well-developed, handsome wo- 
man, with full confidence in her power of pleasing, and a pas- 



140 THE RAG-BAG. 



sionate impetuosity that made slight mistakes of no great con- 
sequence. There are notes in her voice, that are truly admi- 
rable, but unluckily her throat has a straw in it, here and 
there, upon which these fine notes inevitably scraped, coming 
or going, and just when one was ready to applaud her execu- 
tion, one was obliged to fall to thinking of her beauty, or drop 
altogether the illusion of the " evening's entertainment." 
Madame de Yriess has the low forehead and dangerous-look- 
ing eyes of Mrs. Fanny Kemble. Her only lack of superb 
plumptitude seemed to be, strangely enough, in the joint of 
the arm below the elbow — a fullness that I never before saw 
a stout woman without, and which even a thin one is very apt 
to possess, in the way of an exception to the rest of the 
figure. As a mere prima donna, she might have a career, I 
suppose, but it would be very necessary to keep her husband 
behind the scenes, and be better supported. 

I should have said, above, by the way, that you have little 
to do, (you ladies,) in this country, except to preserve your 
privileges. America is the Canaan of woman. In what other 
country is there a " Female Medical College," like that opened 
this month in Philadelphia ? Where else is there a " Female 
Academy of Design," to give instruction in Drawing, free of 
expense, to such women as have not the health for other 
means of livelihood, or such as have more talent for the pen- 
cil than the needle 1 . This latter (also in Philadelphia) is an 
Institution every one should know of, and commend, for it 
tends, more than any other, directly to elevate the condition 
of the sex. It was founded, (and $50,000 were raised to en- 
dow it) by the indefatigable energy and generous self-devotion 
of one ivoman — whom all women, and all men who respect 



TOWN GO SSI?. 141 



women, should profoundly honor. This is only one of her 
charitable deeds, but it is alone enough to dignify a life and 
embalm its memory. Drawing and designing, as perhaps you 
know, is an extensive trade. The patterns for carpets, for 
manufactured goods, for the paper of upholsterers, for. title- 
pages, for the various demand upon engravers, &c, occupy a 
very large class of industrials in Europe, and we have, hither- 
to, been obliged to send across the water for all of such de- 
signs as were wanted in this country. It was upon this prac- 
tical basis — seeing, at the same time, the fitness of the more 
retired and delicate sex for its tasteful labors — that the bene- 
volent " Sister of Mercy," whom I speak of, founded the 
" Female Academy of Design." There should be one like it 
in every city of the Union. 

Since I have been writing to you, I have glanced my eye 
over a morning paper, and noticed the following passage in a 
letter from Paris : — 

" A very curious incident, which caused much sensation, (for it was 
a study of manners for those who knew not it was customary in the 
United States,) was the arrival of a young gentleman of New- York, 
having charge of two young ladies, who were the sisters of one of his 
friends. The freedom of these young ladies, the confidence of the fa- 
ther in the honor of the young man who was their protector in their 
European tour — everything created much sensation, and it was the 
cause of much gossip. Be assured that no father, nor mother, in 
France, would thus surrender their daughters into the hands of a 
young man. Of course the honor is in favor of the United States." — 
Herald. 

Now — very extraordinary as it is in Europe for unmarried 
ladies to be for a moment alone with young gentlemen — no- 



142 THE RAG-BAG. 



thing is considered a " safer investment," in America, than 
for single men to have the charge of single ladies at theatres, 
on journeys, or wherever else " a beau" is honorably needed. 
But this — or any other custom of a country — may be ridiculed 
out, or driven out by affectation and fashion ; and the question 
for American ladies is, first, whether this freedom for woman 
is a desirable difference from the European standard, and se- 
cond, whether some pains should not be taken, (if so,) to con- 
firm it. Seeing how well " it works" in this country, where 
women are far more virtuous than in Europe, I should res- 
pectfully counsel a continuance of " the largest liberty." 
What say, my dear friend and reader ? 

Wishing to stop where I can leave you with some thinking 
to do, I write myself abruptly, 

Your servant and friend. 



SECOND HOMAGE TO THE AMERICAN 
AEI8T0CEA0Y. 



The first recognition of the fact that The Many were the 
aristocracy of this country — not The Eew — was made by Jen- 
ny Lind. Though a political economist would have long ago told 
us, that, in a land where every body is tolerably well off, the bulk 
of the money must be in the pockets of The People — and that 
The People, therefore, must have the best of everything — no 
business seemed to be done upon the idea, except in the sup- 
ply of the first wants — that is to say, by hotels, public convey- 
ances, 03 r ster- cellars, tailors and hatters. Opera-singers per- 
sisted in blindly offering their luxuries to the same class as in 
Europe — to The Eew. So did " stars" of every description — 
[though the class they wish to reach, the class who had $5 to 
ispare, (call them the Eive-dollae.-Billers for the sake of clas- 
sification), were in thousands unappealed to. In point of fact, 

there is another difference between this country and Europe. 

' (143) 



144 THE RAG-BAG. 



The true Five-dollar-Billers — those who are always ready to 

expend that much upon a pleasure — are not The Few in 

f 
America. Rich people, with us, are reluctant payers for every 

thing that is not exclusively their own private splendor. It 
is the pocket of healthy competency, that alone needs no 
special laxative to bring away a five dollar bill. " The Many," 
therefore, are the true customers in this country, even for 
opera-singers, and the costliest givers of public pleasure — 
while, in England and France, the willingness to spend that 
amount readily, is found only among the wealthy and fash- 
ionable. 

The first offer, we repeat, of the highest pleasure of Luxury 
to its true American market — the first collecting together of the 
reliable Five-dollar-Billers — was at the late Concerts at Castle 
Garden : — nine thousand in an audience on one night, at five 
dollars a seat, and, we venture to say,feiver regretting pockets 
than in an Astor-place audience of four hundred and fifty, 
with the tickets at one dollar " and fifty cents." 

And now let us look at the second application of this Jenny 
Lind discovery : — 

The most exclusive and aristocratic luxury of England is 
The Club. The club houses, (the building of the latest of | 
which cost four hundred thousand dollars — £80,000,) are the 
inner sanctuaries of rank, wealth, station and fashion. Young ' 
noblemen's names are put down for membership when they are i 
in the cradle, and they are sometimes on the list for twenty 
years, before vacancies occur which permit them to be ballot- 
ted for. The least stain upon their conduct as gentlemen — I 
recognised by a single black ball in the ballot-box — excludes ; 
them, and inflicts indelible disgrace upon their standing in so- 1 



HOMAGE TO AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY. 145 

olety. None are admitted except men of what are considered 
" gentlemanly pursuits"— even merchants being excluded, un- 
less they are " bankers," or have some family title or other 
distinction. Of course, while a man would hardly be consid- 
ered a gentlemen at the " West End" unless he belonged to 
one of the " crack Clubs, 1 ' a membership of one of them estab- 
lishes his title to that name — and Clubs thus become the 
privileged luxury of Aristocracy. 

But this " institution" must be brought over, like every other 
European Luxury, to New York — and here it is — a splendid 
Club house, just completed, fob, the American Aristocracy 
— open, that is to say, to every man who chooses to pay tivelve 
dollars a year to become a member. The following description 
of it, we compile from the two or three accounts of its first 
opening, in the daily papers : — 

The New York Athensum.— Under this name an elegant suite of 
rooms has been opened at 663 Broadway, in the building of the 
National Academy 'of Design, to be used by subscribers for the purposes 
of reading and conversation. The rooms are three in number, and are 
separated from each other by semi-partitions and rich curtains. First 
in order is the conversation-room, which is handsomely fitted up with 
lounges and rocking-chairs, and hung with a rich tapestry. This room, 
intended for conversation and smoking, is forty-five feet by tbirty-five, 
and twenty-one feet high, decorated in the style of the halls in the old 
Norman Castles. The second room, intended for chess playing, is in 
the style of an Oriental Tent, in consideration of tbe Oriental origin 
of the game of chess. The third room is fifty-five feet by forty-five, and 
is in the style of architecture known as the Renaissance. The ceiling 
contains four landscapes, representing the old stage coach, the railway, 
the steam-boat and telegraph — four charming pictures. This room is 

7 



146 THE RAG-BAG. 



by far the largest, and its appointings are truly sumptuous. The car- 
pet is one of the richest we have eyer seen ; the central chandelier? 
with its ornamental globes and thousand glass pendants, diffuses a 
brilliant yet softened light through the apartment; the ceiliug ia 
frescoed in delicate wreaths of flowers surrounded by gilded mouldings j 
the walls are clothed with a rich figured velvet paper, and the windows 
hung with heavy crimson drapery ; the lounges, sofas and rocking-chairs 
are of plush, corresponding in colour with the curtains, and the whole 
effect is that of the drawing-room of a palace. Indeed, the architect (Mr. 
Peterson) having been exiled by royalty from Germany, seems to have 
studied to reproduce the palace-chambers of Europe in the new world" 
Among the fixtures of this room are two beautifully ornamented fire- 
places, with mantels #f cast-iron and plate glass, furnished by Chilson, 
Allen, "Walker & Co. The reading-room will be supplied with the leading 
newspapers and periodicals of every nation and language, and will be 
kept with the utmost regard to neatness, promptness, and order. 



How the Five-dollar-Billers will behave, with their new 
luxury — how a sumptuous Club " will do," that is open to all 
— is, of course, the problem of forthcoming solution. The 
leaving out of the English feature of an eating-and -drinking- 
room, will doubtless obviate its principal liability to abuse. 
The smokiDg, (we should, perhaps, venture to say,) would 
have been wisely left out, for the same reason. There should 
be no ministration to any taste shared by the class known as 
" rowdies." For only reading and conversation, few are likely 
to frequent it, except such as it would be agreeable to meet, 
while a cigar with an easy chair (and spit-box) in a splendid 
apartment — good society and the name of the thing included — • 
might be worth twelve dollars a year to a blackguard. Ex- 
periment will best weigh this objection against the enjoyment 



3 

: 



HOMAGE TO AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY. 147 

of a cigar, however, and we speak « without book," not being 
ourself a smoker. 

One suggestion we will make, to the proprietors, and we do 
it, not without deference, and not without a precedent. The 
London Athenaeum Club, soon after its formation, gave a tea- 
party, once a iveelc, to the ladies. Any member was allowed to 
bring three, and he paid, according to the tariff of the club 
for what they ate and drank. It was exceedingly popular 
while it lasted, and many thought they were the most agree- 
able parties in London — but some jealousies, of attentions to 
the novel belles who were thus introduced, soon set the Dow- 
agers to work, and they voted it " unfashionable," and sue 
ceeded in putting down an arena where things were not sub- 
ject to their own invitations. 

But this tyrannical exclusiveness could not (or need not be 
permitted to) exert its influence over an American Club, and 
we should say that one evening a week for the ladies would 
work charmingly. Society, to a man of the world, is like 
botany — the best specimens are not found in fenced gardens, 
and Nature drops down her sweetest flowers — may be in the 
least expected places. The five hundred thousand inhabitants 
of New York are a wilderness, in which grows every known 
variety of the human soul. The rare plants are widely scat- 
tered, and require wide ranging, to be found ; and there is as 
likely to be a priceless development of woman in the Ninth 
Avenue as in the Fifth. To a party where were courtesy and 
appreciation for all — to a republican tea-party on open and 
neutral ground — such " happy accidents of Nature," whom 
we need to see and know more of, would come by the attrac- 
tion of a certain selective magnetism. The Athenaeum would 



148 



THE RAG-BAG. 



thus become, (to continue our similitude,) the invaluable 
herbarium of New York. Turn the idea over in your mind ! 

But, (if the Proprietors will excuse us for expressing any 
disparagement of the announced objects of the establishment,) 
we should rely little, for its success, upon reading, chess,' con- 
versation and smoking. It will be principally valuable to gentle- 
men, as a place of appointment and intervieiv, and on this wheel 
we think its prosperity will run. Such a resort — an evening 
exchange for. gentlemen — is very much wanted. The dis- 
tance between private residences, and the inconvenience of re- 
ceiving and making drawing-room calls, at hours when custom 
exacts rather a ceremonious visit if any, are difficulties which 
interrupt much of the friendly intercourse between gentlemen 
— intercourse, (let us add,) which is very necessary to the main- 
tenance of gentlemanly standards, and the culture of manly 
principles and character. The central position of the Athenseum, 
(for it is on the way to every place of amusement,) favors this 
use of its spacious and elegant rooms, and we only wish, that, 
in its structure, there were something like library niches or 
alcoves, into which one could retire for chat with a friend, 
without disturbing others within earshot. 

One little economy, of time, memory and shoe-leather, let 
us suggest, in connection with this establishment. In London, 
it is the usage, to leave cards for bachelors, at their clubs. 
Now, the civility of pasteboard is necessary for established 
reasons, and the lodgings of artists, authors, the pressditti, 
and others who are not born with a front door of their own, 
are often very difficult to find. Let these, our troubadour 
acquaintances, put " Athenseum" as the address on their cards, 
however, and the difficulty vanishes. Notes can be sent to them, 






HOMAGE TO AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY. 149 

there, also. And, for these purposes, the Club will require 
its little Post-office, with alphabetical boxes for members. 

We presume, also, that in accordance with the usage of 
Clubs abroad, members will have the right of introducing 
strangers to a gratuitous use of the Club privileges during 
their stay in town. 

Those who have known, by frequentation of the " Cafe 
Grceco," at Bome, how delightful the society of artists is, 
where they are in the habit of meeting without reserve, 
will doubtless hope, with us, that the Athenaeum may prove 
such an " exchange," for them and those who love them. 
Their un-sordid and beauty-studying brains are the salt 
wanted in this boiling pot of the Californian vegetable. "We 
have wondered ourself dumb, why the appreciating sex have 
Hot made artists, intellectual and refined creatures as they 
always are, the upper class of favorites in New- York society ; 
but since accomplished heels please better than accomplished 
heads — since the ladies will not seek and prefer the company 
of the students of beauty — let our own sex have a place 
where we can take Nature's rejected gift and make much of 
it. "We could say more on this last theme, but, in " fast 
America," hints are enough. 



THE TOWN, JUST NOW. 



The season of the year that would bo delicate to allude to 
if the year felt as mankind do about growing old — the brief 
summer, that would fain seem like a continuation of the sum- 
mer that was past, is nearly over. The trees are shedding 
their flowing locks ; the branches look thin, and unwilling to 
be seen; the days get tired of being pleasant, by twelve 
o'clock ; and all, except the sky above, looks cold and unin- 
viting. In time of life, and time of year, this is alike " the 
Fall." 

Never was Broadway so crowded, apparently. If it were 
suddenly brought to a stand-still and petrified, you might walk 
from Grace Church to the Battery, either on the tops of om- 
nibuses or the heads of the people. The private equipages 
of the Known have hardly yet made their appearance, but the 
great number of new turn-outs with gay liveries, whose Un- 
knowns are yet to be identified by Mr. Brown, show that for- 

150 



THE TOWN, JUST NOW. 151 

tunes have been made since Spring, and that the ranks of 
fashion are to be recruited. Cigar-shops multiply. Every 
corner of a street is being let for a bar-room. Ladies are be- 
ginning to walk without dodging the puffs of the smoking 
promenaders. Bananas and pomegranates look quite at 
home in the windows of the fruit shops. Broadway is more 
and more paved, and very good houses are more and more 
pulled down to obstruct the sidewalk. 

Society is not yet astir, except by droppings-in. As far as 
can be gathered from the little talk over the coming campaign, 
there is a probability of evening receptions for both sexes — 
the morning " At-Homes," (of course for ladies only,) being 
generally pronounced tiresome. There is great speculation — 
so many of our up-tovvners have been abroad — as to the Pa- 
risianisms that will be introduced into society this winter. An 
effort will doubtless be made to bring out the married men, 
and try the novelty of a circle that is not strictly adolescent. 
Balls and routs,, more expensive than ever, of course there 
will be — but unpretentious soirees are much discussed and 
hoped for, (like some of the most exclusive ones in London,) 
where tea is served to you, as you enter, by the housekeeper 
in the cloak room, and, of any further hunger or thirst, there 
is neither supposition nor supply. This last fashion would 
enable persons of delicate health, or of moderate means, to 
gather about them what might be considered the choicest so- 
ciety of the time. 

But, the city's breath is quite taken away at the present 
moment, with the expectation of the coming wonders. What 
is to be done with Kossuth ? To reply, at all sufficiently, to 
the speeches that will be made to him, he would need to bo 



152 THE RAG BAG. 



a "Webster or an Everett — even if English were his native 
tongue. How will he respond to the oratory of Mayors and 
committees ? How will so modest and sensible a hero stand 
all the procession-izing and receiving, shouting and hand-sha- 
king ? How will one man's heart beat back a response to the 
hearts of six hundred thousand people in this city, longing to 
put their arms around his neck 1 He is a mortal man, and in 
delicate health. "We sincerely think, that, among other mu- 
nicipal arrangements for his reception, there should be a phy- 
sician appointed to accompany him, from morning till night, 
and withdraw him from the crowd at the first symptom of 
brain fever. 

Then Sontag — the Countess Rossi — has agreed to open her 
ennobled throat to us, for half a million of dollars and a third 
of all profits over and above ! The bond for this is signed 
and sealed, it is authentically stated. She will arrive in 
dumbfoundered New York, some time between this and 
Christmas. From the year 1827, when she made her first 
appearance, to the year 1851, is a good while for a throat to 
stay enchanting — but so it does, or every critic of London 
and Paris has written a fib. That she retains her good looks 
— or, at least, that she was palely plump, and that her blue 
eyes looked undimmed between two heaps of profuse flaxen 
ringlets, four or five years ago — we can ourself certify, having 
seen her in her Opera-box at Berlin, from the nearest point in 
the pit. (Her husband, perhaps the reader knows, was Am- 
bassador at the Court of Prussia, and the Countess was, for 
the same period, its reigning belle.) She dresses enchanting- 
ly, and, with her Court history as a back-ground to her beau- 
ty, will be attractive to see, at least — whatever may be thought 



THE TOWN, JUST NOW. I53 

of the money's worth she gives the ear. She will offer one 
advantage, by the way, that will not be " down in the bills" 
— it will be instructive, in this country of early-giving-up, to 
see how a woman of forty-five can look as young as at 
twenty. 

Pischek and Thalberg are coming with Sontag — both 
great lions in their way. Pischek was singing with Jenny 
Lind, when we first heard her in Germany, and we do not re- 
member being very much delighted with him then, though, of 
course, from the association, he is an artist of the first class. 
Thalberg is a glorious composer, and, to see him at the piano 
will be like seeing a dramatist perform in his own play — the 
reality in what is usually but the shadow. 

Pruit and strangers all the year round, at New York, are 
among the pleasant results of faster paddles and locomotives. 
This used to be the time of year when the hotels began to 
shorten their tables, and visiters from a distance started to 
make their journeys home while the weather was comfortable 
to travel. Now, you may see a "Western man, with his hat on 
the back of his head, a Southerner with his indolent walk, or 
a Canadian with his thick boots and tight-bottomed trousers, 
at any time of the year — as you may find bananas and pome- 
granates when you please, and plums and peaches long before 
the old fashioned season. This is a cessation of tax-paying 
to Cold and Heat, and a release from the tyranny of King 
Latitude, which would doubtless have been preceded by a 
very smart Declaration of Independence, if it had not come 
about so gradually. 

The next most numerous things to omnibuses, at present, 
in the middle of the streets, are large bands of music, with 
7*- 



154: THE RAG-BAG. 



small military companies behind them.* A census of the 
drums in active employment, on any one day, in New York, 
would astonish Europe. With no war in very imminent 
prospect, it is curious how all the spare time of the youthful 
population of the city seems devoted to " training," and it is 
a question whether this perpetual martial music, in the ears 
of our citizens, will not " raise a blister," which it will re- 
quire a war to puncture, at some early day. 

We sat down to write of several matters which we have not 
yet mentioned, but we are encroaching upon other articles, 
and must reserve them. 

* The difference of amount in the two commodities — music and sol- 
diers — should perhaps be explained. First, the immigration of Germans 
is at present very large, and, as there is no German, high or low, who 
cannot play some musical instrument, bands are easily formed, and the 
competition mates military music cheap and plenty. Second, the natu- 
ral disposition of Americans being to command, the military companies 
are composed principally of officers, and the privates are so few and un- 
willing as to be frequently outnumbered by the band. 



UPPEEMOST TOWN TOPICS. 



The electric attention of a vast city, passes with lightning 
suddenness, from one subject to another, yet its impressions, 
brief as they are, are sometimes so marked and memorable as 
to be proper matters of record. The three almost simultaneous 
deaths of eminent men, a few days since, awoke a general and 
profound feeling of solemnity. The Destroyer has seldom 
made a swoop so conspicuous. The first of our merchants, 
and two of the most distinguished of our physicians, were 
announced as dead, almost as the news of one day. Aside 
from sympathy with relatives and friends, the sudden stop of 
influence and power, by the departure of three such men from 
life is very startling. Mr. Gardiner Howland was a man who 
lived in the exercise of large influence. As one of the wealth- 
iest of our citizens, he had the power which the world at pre- 
sent most recognizes, and he had qualities of character which 
made his varied exercise of this power a blessing to his fellow- 

(155) 



156 



THE KAG-BAG. 



men. Of the void left by the death of eminent physicians, 
every one knows the calamitous extent. JDr. Kearney Rodgers, 
and Dr. Granville Patterson, — both apparently in the full pos- 
session of health but a short time before, and both men whose 
minds were storehouses of good to their fellow-men — were 
struck down in a day. Of the one of these two distinguished 
men, whom we personally knew, we have made mention in 
another column, and we pass to other topics — our only purpose, 
at present, being to record the manner in which the tumul- 
tuous pulse of this vast city was stilled, for a moment, by 
these three announcements of an hour. 

The presence of the Hungarians is perhaps the most mani- 
fest point of novelty in the city. One has to make some effort to 
remember what Kossuth continually refers to as " the princi- 
ples they represent," in meeting them on an every day 
sidewalk. Our expectation of what heroes are to look like, is 
formed by seeing them on the stage, or with the still more 
glowing illusion of our own imaginations ; and, spite of rea- 
son, we are disappointed with ordinary -looking individuals. 
The fine actions and sacrifices of these Hungarian exiles are 
not visible in their half-embarrassed, half-wondering counte- 
nances ; and the little black feather stuck in the hat — the only 
special difference of costume — is not enough to redeem the 
commonplaceness, to the eye. They are not strikingly supe- 
rior-looking men either, and there is some disappointment 
expressed as to their physiognomies. One puts them on their 
pedestals again, however, upon getting home, and reading of 
the Magyars and Kossuth, and they have only to go to the 
West, like the sun, and they will color up again brilliantly as 
they get to the distance of the horizon. 



TOWN TOPICS. 157 



In the newpaper life of the city, the latest event of mark is the 
late semi-centennial biography of the Evening Post, given to 
its readers and the public from the pen of Bryant. We shall 
find room for a digest of the principal facts. This journal has 
always maintained a consistent and uniform vigor, (to say 
what even political opponents would probably allow) and its 
friends would give it much more praise than this. The memoir of 
its past fifty years of existence is very interestingly written by 
Bryant. 

In the daily chronicle of philanthropy, and its bearings and 
belongings, the newest record is the medal presented to Mr. 
Henry Grinnell, by twelve British Residents, as commemora- 
tive of his Franklin munificence. Mr. G. has been so obstinate 
in receiving no honors for his act in this matter, that they 
were obliged to hunt him down, in his counting-room, where 
they finally found him, and presented the medal. It represents his 
two vessels surrounded by the ice, and -the reverse bears this 
inscription : — " The British Residents of New-York to Henry 
Grinnell, in grateful admiration of his noble effort to save Sir 
John Franklin. 

'Tis thine to feel another's woe, 
And ours to mark the sacred glow." 

The date of the year is then added. This circumstance has 
been a good deal noticed, but as our readers are mostly those 
who do not see the daily papers, and it is salutary to make 
such things generally known, we hazard repeating it. 



PRIVATE HABITS AND MANNEES OF 
JENNY LIND. 



If it were revealed to us that God had sent an angel to 
earth, upon a mission of charity which required money to 
fulfil — and if we were to recognize the identity and presence 
of that angel, by the good which is being done, the pure cha- 
racter of the ministering agent, and the celestial simplicity of 
the substitute for a letter of credit — who would hesitate to 
see these three identifications in the charities, the purity, and 
the voice of Jenny Lind ? In most of the eminence and dis- 
tinction of this world, there is some lifted corner of the envel- 
oping robe of glory which discloses an under garment " of 
the earth, earthy." In Jenny Lind's character, as well as in 
her schemes of benevolence, there seems no enveloping motive 
or purpose, which would not serve purely for an angel's 
wear. Before showing — (as some chance information enables 
us to do) — where the hem of the Swedish angel's unsoiled 

(158) 



JENNY LIND. 159 



robe of conduct touches the ground, let us refresh the memo- 
ry of the reader with the view of her brilliant cestus of good 
works, as outlined in the letter of the gentleman who has en- 
gaged her to sing in this country : — ^ 

"It is well known that Jenny Lind never received less than $2,000 
per night for her own personal services, in Manchester, Edinburgh, 
Glasgow, Dublin, and the provincial towns in England, and that she 
frequently received $3,000 per night. My agent saw an offer to 
her of $30,000, to sing twelve nights in England, which she declined ; 
also, an enormous offer for the grand Concerts at the Imperial Court 
of Kussia, an offer nearly double that of my own, which she, for rea- 
sons, also declined. She was offered $6,000 to sing in one concert, to 
be given at the Great World's Convention of Arts and Manufactures, 
in Hyde Park, London, in 1851. It was farther intimated to her, from 
Queen Victoria, that her services would be desired at about the same 
period, in a contemplated grand sacred festival, at Westminster Abbey, 
where the tickets will be held from $25 to $100 each. Both of these 
last offers she was induced to decline, in consequence of her desire to 
visit America, as proposed by my agent. ' 

"Miss Lind has numerous better offers than the one she has 
accepted from me ; but she has a great anxiety to visit America ; 
she speaks of this country and its institutions in the highest 
terms of rapture and praise, and as money is by no means the greatest 
inducement that can be laid before her, she has determined to visit 
us. In her engagement with me, (which engagement includes Ha- 
vana, as well as the United States,) she expressly reserves the right to 
give charitable concerts whenever she thinks proper. v 

" Since her debut in England, she has given to the poor, from her 
own private purse, more than the whole amount which I have engaged 
to give her, and the proceeds of concerts for charitable purposes in 
Great Britain, where she has sung gratuitously, have realized more 
than ten times that amount. * 



160 THE RAG-BAG. 



" For the last eight months, she has been singing entirely gratuitously 
for charitable purposes ; and she is now founding a benevolent institu- 
tion in Stockholm, her native city, at a cost of $350,000. <J 

" A visit from such a woman, who regards her high artistic powers 
as a gift from Heaven, for the amelioriation of affliction and distress, 
and whose every thought and deed is philanthropy, I feel persuaded 
will prove a blessing to America, as she has to every country which 
she has visited, and I feel every confidence that my countrymen and 
women will join me heartily in saying ' may God bless her.' "^ 

With this really sublime view of her exercise of power 
(through her gold-commanding gift of credit from God,) let 
us now contrast the striking and yet philosophically con- 
sistent humilities of a glimpse at her ordinary life. *' 

During her two years' engagements in London, Jenny Lind 
hired the suburban residence of a stout and worthy citizen, 
taking his furniture, his carriage and coachman, his servants 
and house belongings, of all descriptions, on rent. The only 
addition that she made to the usual service of the establish- 
ment, was the attendance of an English chaplain, who, upon 
the open lawn of the garden, whenever the weather would any 
way permit, or otherwise in the drawing-room, performed the 
devotions of the English Church for the assembled household. 
The coachman, as is the custom in England, had accommoda- 
tions for his family in a wing of the stables ; and his wife, the 
mother of two or three young children, was employed as 
" washer and ironer." "While, with proffers of attention and 
acquaintance from the rank and fashion of London, the fair 
Swede was unavailingly beset — a kind of tribute to her genius 
and character which she consistently and unvaryingly refused 
— the family of the honest coachman were commonly enjoying 






JENNY LIND. 161 



the much sought privilege. While Duchesses and Countesses 
were being refused at her door, she was oftenest seated in the 
centre of the haymow, her favorite resort for every hour of 
leisure, tending the coachman's baby, or teaching the older 
ones to read ! On this humble family all her every-day affec- 
tions seemed to be expended. When away, concert-singing 
at Birmingham or Liverpool, she wrote to them daily, as if to 
her own family, and with a tenderness of broken English 
which was as touching as it was curious. These letters were 
lent and shown to the neighbors and others, and the friend (of 
our own) who had seen them and gives us these particulars, 
says that no daughter could have written home more familiar- 
ly and affectionately. The coachman's wife still wears, 
stitched to the sleeve of the calico gown in which she works, 
and changed and re stitched carefully to every dress she puts 
on, a most costly diamond bracelet, her parting keepsake from 
Jenny Lind ! It would be a hard extremity of poverty that 
would induce her to part with it. v/ 

The famous opera singer had been more than a year the 

tenant of Mr. C , and the staid and elderly citizen had 

never seen her. He had his lodgings in town, near his place 
of business, and he sent his clerk to Brompton quarterly to 
receive the rent, replying, with a bluff disavowal of all know- 
ledge of opera-singers, to such of his friends as made the na- 
tural inquiries of curiosity. Some question occurring, how- 
ever, at one of these quarterly settlements which an agent 
could not very well dispose of, it became necessary that Mr. 
C should call on his tenant In person. The stout land- 
lord's account of his visit very much amused his friends. He 
had expected an uncomfortable degree of pretension and cere- 



162 THE RAG-BAG. 



mony. The servant at the door showed his old master to the 
drawing-room, and the next minute " Miss Lind" came run- 
ning in from the garden, with dress unhooked behind, hair 
not very smooth, (these particulars are second-hand from the 
first narrator,) and as cordial as the oldest friend he had in the 
world. She seized him by his two hands, crowded him down 
into a large arm-chair, insisted upon knowing why he had not 
been to see her during the long time she had been in his 
house, and finally seated herself on the floor at his feet, to talk 
over matters. Quite overcome with this last condescension, 
the deep-down chivalry of the honest Englishman was aroused, 
and, dropping on one knee, he declared that he could not sit 
in a chair while she sat on the floor. At this, the unceremo- 
nious Jenny jumped up, and, taking Mr. C.'s two hands, drew 
him to a window seat, and squeezed herself (for he is a very 
fat man) into the recess by his side — "and a very tight 
squeeze it was," added the old gentleman in telling the story. 
Here she pulled from her pocket contract and receipts, and 
proceeded to business, which was soon settled ; and the land- 
lord took his leave, delighted with Jenny Lind, but not quite 
sure that he had been in possession of his senses V 

Just before the celebrated singer left this residence, a lady 
who had been brought in contact with her by some circum- 
stance of neighborhood, and who had conceived a strong affec- 
tion for her, asked, one day, something as a keepsake, Jenny 
flew to her dressing room and brought down jewels and costly 
articles of dress, and eagerly begged her to choose any thing 
she possessed ; but an article of value was not what the lady 
wished or could accept. It was with the greatest difficulty 
that the impulsive Swede could be made to agree to let the 



JENNY LIND. 163 



keepsake consist of only the bouquet of flowers that she had 
worn in " La Fille du Regiment." Her generosity and sim- 
plicity seem beyond taint or qualification by knowledge of the 
world./ 

The above particulars, showing the admired celebrity off 
her pedestal, as they do, will by no means diminish the inter- 
est of her reception in America. The qualities of character 
which they reveal, are appreciated, and earnestly looked for, 
by the largest and best class of our country people — the un- 
ostentatious and plain-hearted. Her coming among us will 
be that year's most noted event, in all probability, and we 
only trust that a prophetess, whose whole mission, with her 
gold-amassing powers, seems one of pure benevolence, may 
not be disparaged, for her humble simplicities of ordinary life 
— as was the prophet Elisha, for healing Naaman with the 
humble waters of Israel, when " Abana and Pharpar," the 
more aristocratic waters of Damascus, would have been so 
much more " in keeping with his character." 



OEATIONS AND $100 



Men of genius have not the faculty of making money — en- 
joying their mental superiority, as Shenstone says, " in lieu 
of most temporal advantages." So the giraffe, made the tall- 
est of animals that he may feed on foliage out of the reach of 
lesser creatures, stoops with so much difficulty to the ground, 
that he would starve where sheep find good grazing. Wiser 
than poets, it is true, the giraffes retire befqre the levelling 
axe and low-growing products of thick population — haunting 
only where their proper sustenance abounds and suffices. But, 
by the great human principle of compensation, which makes 
those who see lend a hand to the blind, and those who have 
homes give hospitality to the stranger, these inequalities of 
dispensation should be equalized by the kind care and fore- 
thought of those who chance to be more favorably endowed; 
and this brings us to what we wish to suggest, touching 

(164) 



OEATIONS AND $100. 165 



a duty of the money-making public toward less thrifty men 
of genius. ' 

If it were a custom to send a committee to a painter, to 
^compliment him with a request that he would use his next 
fortnight in painting a picture for a society of wealthy per- 
sons for nothing — if to a cabinet-maker to request a present of 
a book-case, the fortnight's labor, in making which, would be 
paid for with the same complimentary equivalent — if to a car- 
penter, a mason, a jeweller, flatteringly demanding a two 
weeks' use of their skill and tools, for the honor of the service 
only — either of these requests would be as reasonable as the 
habitual call upon literary men for gratuitous orations before 
societies and at celebrations and anniversaries. It is because 
men of genius are not capable of money-making — in other 
words are too proud and delicate to put a price upon what 
they do, and chaffer for the pay — that this unfair taking of 
advantage has grown into a usage, and is practised, with 
most unsuspecting extortion, by the honorable committees of 
every possible society and institution. What a fortnight's 
labor is worth, when prepared for by ten or fifteen years of 
expensive education, and what the additional celebrity, to a 
literary man, of addressing a society, is worth, are the two 
commodities between which the difference is to be struck ; 
and (estimated by the standard at which lawyers rate their 
time and previously acquired knowledge,) five hundred dol- 
lars would not more than equalize a public oration's price and 
value. 

It is not in the light of a staple or commodity, that it is 
necessary to regard such productions, however. Genius will 
continue to be too proud to exact its due, and, though not 



166 THE EAG-BAG. 



made a whit more distinguished or famous by addressing an 
audience, will be willing still to take the honor at a commit- 
tee's valuation. The only remedy is to correct the popular 
error on the subject, and make associations of gentlemen so 
aware of the imposition thus thoughtlessly practised, that they 
will be ashamed to repeat it. To offer a literary man a com- 
pensation — one hundred dollars at the very least — for an ora- 
tion upon any subject which can gather an audience, would 
be, besides a delicate and unburthensome way of supplying 
means and occupation to this worst paid of the professions. 
The reader's mind will at once revert to a number of men of 
genius, living among us without any continued and reliable 
pursuit, to whom such a custom would supply a resource that 
is (hospitably and honoring) their due from those among 
whom they are, in one sense, strangers. We are a great peo- 
ple at finding work for orators, and fonder of gregarious ex- 
citements and impulses than any other nation ; and we should 
like it to be an American glory that genius here, (first in the 
history of the world,) found ready appreciation and generous 
guardianship against the injustices to which it is liable. 






• 



"AMEEICAN HOMAGE TO WOMAN." 



[An article which appeared in The Home Journal a week or two ago, 
on the subject of " Opera Manners," has brought upon us a great many 
requests, verbal and epistolary, for farther criticisms on American man- 
ners. It is an invidious task, however, and one by which one seems to 
setup his own judgment in such matters as authority — an assumption 
which we are very far from making — but we undertake it in the hope 
that it will make our paper more interesting, and, we trust that those 
who have had the same advantages of travel and observation as we, will 
not object to our thus lending the benefit of common experience to those 
who have not. In our next paper we shall give a third article, on the 
inappreciative neglect of middle-aged women in this country.] 

We wish to express a doubt that we have long felt, whe- 
ther Woman is essentially complimented by the undiscrimin- 
ating and ceremonious deference to the sex which is so often 
i spoken of as the " American homage to woman." We venture 
ito believe that when there is less of it — as there will be, in the 
progress of national refinement — the standard of female dignity 

(167) 



168 THE RAG-BAG, 



will be higher, and the comfort of the cultivated and respect- 
worthy portion of the sex, in its ordinary intercourse with our 
own, very much greater. This is a delicate matter to find 
fault with — the national pride, in a peculiarity of such frequent 
complimentary mention, being a very sweet morsel under the 
popular tongue — but we are sure that one serves his country 
well by probing any superficial unsoundness in its ripening 
manners, before it has time to deepen to the core ; and the 
" Judicious Pew," at least, (at whose approval The Home 
Journal is aimed, though sometimes with great venture of 
the disapproval of " The Many,") will think it not an undue 
invasion of phtribus-wnum-ivaity, if we enquire upon what the 
American politeness to woman is founded, and how it bears 
on the comfort of our wives and daughters. 

Johnson, in one of his works, uses the phrase " discriminative 
life" as synonymous with " polite life ;" and we take it that 
the trouble and embarrassment of making the discriminations 
which constitute true politeness, would always be willingly 
got rid of, by a selfish man, or by a sensitively vain and under- 
bred man, or by a man who, (like most of our expeditious 
countrymen, in any case of embarrassed distinctions,) jump- 
ed at once to the conclusion that " the shortest way was 
to lump it." * 

* Not directly apropos, but near enough to read very pleasantly, our 
friend and partner, Morris, tells us an amusing instance of the lumping 
of difficult politeness, in the following story : — 

Mr. Gilfert, the former manager of the Bowery, having advertised, at 
one time, for original plays, and receiving, in consequence, a very great \ 
number, was, for a year or two afterwards, exceedingly troubled with | 
the visits of disappointed authors calling for their productions. Being 
in the habit of keeping his papers very loosely, he could never lay his 






"AMEKICAN HOMAGE TO WOMAN." 169 

The difference between the kind help due to the humblest 
of the weaker sex when she claims it, and the well-bred cour- 
tesy due to a lady, with all the varying shades that lie between, 
is entirely confounded. The lady and the house- drudge are 
put upon a level — the first as much robbed of her proper dis- 
tinctive deference, as the other is over-honored and absurdly 
complimented. Anywhere in public, your wife and your 
washerwoman, your friend's dainty daughter and your neigh- 
bor's greasy cook, are jumbled in a most inconvenient equality 
of " chivalric attention." Let us show this by one or two out 
of numberless instances of daily occurence. 

At the few first drops' of a shower, an omnibus passing 
Stewart's, takes in three or four ladies, whom the rain has 
surprised in their shopping. " Twelve inside," the vehicle goes 
on its way ; but at the corner of Canal-street, the driver pulls 
up. " Full !" cries a gentleman within. " It rains ! make room 
for another lady !" answers the driver through the hole, rely- 
ing (for one more sixpence) on the "- American homage to 
woman." The door opens, and a dirty and wet woman, with 
a basket and a child, mounts the steps. " Public sentiment" 
prevents any gentleman from saying : — " My good woman, 
step under an awning and wait three minutes for the next 

hand on the one among his multitudinous rejections which was enquired 
for, but he finally hit upon an expedient to rid himself of the trouble. 
: He ordered his servant to collect, into two large hogsheads, all the manu- 
j scripts of the plays that had been sent to him, and, whenever an author 
\ called, the Manager, with the most polite ceremony, led him to the two 
i vast receptacles and begged him to help himself. In one case, where the 
■ author of a tragedy spent a day up to his chin in dramatic poetry, vainly 
| searching for his own, Mr. Gilfert, to his indignant second demand, most 
! courteously invited him to take any other tragedy instead, or a comedy 
\ and two farces, or, in short, to satisfy himself out of the general heap, 

without scruple. 

8 ■ 



170 THE RAG-BAG. 



omnibus !" She is a defenceless woman (!) and no American 
gentleman can refuse her shelter. (!) The gentlemen crowd 
together towards the door, passing her up, so that " the ladies 
may all sit together ;" and down she drops, with her wet skirts, 
upon the divided laps of two elegantly dressed ladies, while 
her child and basket find their level anywhere between — the 
three intruders together, in addition to the inconvenience, de- 
stroying more property, in the article of dress they damage, 
than the woman would earn in a year. Now, query — are the 
four ladies in that omnibus gratified, on the whole, with this 
demonstration of " American homage to woman ?" 

Let us give another instance which we chanced to see, not 
long since : — In a crowded theatre, a lady, evidently a stran- 
ger in town, sat with an invalid gentleman, to whom she seem- 
ed very tenderly attached, at the end of a seat near the door. 
They had come early to secure good places, and the gentleman 
was congratulating himself that he had been persuaded to 
come — the sofa (at the Broadway theatre) being so well cush- 
ioned that he thought the fatigue would not be too much for 
him. They were evidently persons of the most refined class 
of life. As the curtain rose, a man, savouring very strongly 
of bad brandy, passed in with a stout Irish girl, and stood a 
moment with her in the alley between the sofas — not a vacant 
seat to be seen. " Plenty of gentlemen sitting down !" said 
the girl. " Will you please to give a lady a seat, sir ?" said 
the man, touching the invalid gentleman on the shoulder. Of 
course it must be a very independent person, capably of acting 
in cool defiance of public opinion in this country, who would 
refuse, under such circumstances ; and the invalid gentleman 
yielded his place to a robust Irish servant girl, and remained 



"AMERICAN HOMAGE TO WOMAN." 171 

standing, and separated from the companion with whom he 
came to enjoy the play, for the remainder of the evening. 
Now, query — did loth these ladies feel pleased with this de- 
monstration of " American homage to woman," or if they 
differed, which of the two would it have been more proper 
to favor by the simplest discrimination ? 

Any lady's memory will suply numberless instances of this 
operation of American chivalry, in favor of her sex in public ; 
but let us give a single exponent instance, while we are about 
it, of how it operates in private. 

A lady, in American Society, " can do no wrong." No 
distinction is made between the heavenly angel-woman (of 
which kind there are so many), who may be described in Wal- 
ler's words : — 

" So gentle and severe, that what was bad 
Alike her hatred and her pardon had — " 

no distinction between the charitably incredulous and reluc- 
tant listener to an evil report, and the embittered and eager 
retailer of scandal, whose revenge for disappointed vanity is 
to invent and circulate it. Calumny in America, let it but 
walk in petticoats, is as privileged as is the royalty abroad 
that " walks in purple." Almost any " lady" may so stagger, 
by, wilful slander, the position and prospects of almost any 
young man, that it will take half his life to outlive the misre- 
presentation, and what is his remedy ? Not the law — for in a 
country of such " chivalry for woman," no jury could be found 
who would give him damages of five dollars for any manner 
of injury to prospects or reputation — " a lady the defendant." 
But can he resent it in conversation ? — print a denial of the 



172 THE RAG-BAG. 



story ? — show the teller of it to be false and malicious ? No 
— for it would be " an attack on a defenceless woman"—'' a 
gentleman, of course, would never speak ill of a lady in society" 
— " American homage to the sex should restrain a man" — and 
with such resistance would be met any exposure by a gentle- 
man of the most slanderous injury by a lady. 

Now we say, query —is it complimentary to woman, that 
the bad hearts and bitter tongues which are found in every 
shape of human nature, should be honored and revered with 
the pure and the lovely ? Are clear-hearted and lofty- minded 
women pleased that their husbands and brothers, lovers and 
friends should be at the mercy of a_bad-hearted slanderess — 
unpunishable, and protected by public opinion, because she is 
one of their pure selves ? In honoring, and leaving in unstig- 
matized respect, a soured and hypocritical old maid, for in- 
stance, who does a hundred wrongs in a year that are worse 
in the eye of Heaven than theft, and are immeasurably heavier 
than robbery to bear — in honoring and respecting such a one 
because she is " a woman," do we not virtually disparage those 
of the sex whom we profess to honor ? Is there no selection 
to be made among females, by the general laws of male esti- 
mation ? Are we, like bulls, horses, dogs and fowls, to have 
no preference of honor, for one female over another ? 



LADIES VERSUS LOEDS OF CKEATION. 



We find that we were only the forerunner of a coming stir, 
in our article of last week calling attention to the " Fashion- 
able At-Homes" of New- York, and remarking upon them as a 
curious instance of a custom of gayety for ladies only. As we 
observed, the superior position of the sex in this country is a 
subject of curiosity, the world over ; and in the manifestation 
which this fashion is, of their capability to combine and find 
pleasure in each other's society, without the aid of hose and 
doublet, we see their aggrandizement taking definite shape and 
form. In these days, the first exponent of a stir in the commu- 
nity is a course of Lectures upon the subject of it ; and we 
have to announce that Monsieur Barthelemy, a distinguished 
French gentleman whose character and attainments are well 
known to the citizens of New- York, proposes to give a series 
of Lectures on the " Condition of "Women." They will be 

delivered in French — addressed, naturally enough, to that 

173 



174 



THE RAG-BAG. 



highly educated class which has made the first demonstration 
of combined power, in the adoption of the above-mentioned 
fashionable female custom of Matinees. (The daily papers 
will contain M. Barthelemy's advertisement.) 

Women have the faculty, it is very certain, of accommodating 
themselves, with wonderful ease, to any position which grows 
out of national usage and necessity. The slavish industry of 
men, in this country, removing them from the neighborhood 
and contact of their wives during the most of their waking 
hours, the ladies have been left without share or counsel in 
the husband's business ; but at liberty to cultivate refinements, 
in turn, which are quite out of the husband's reach and par- 
ticipation. The moral principle of American women being, 
at the same time, higher than in any other country that ever 
before existed, the liberty which ladies here enjoy is not taken 
advantage of, to the husband's conjugal detriment ; but, if 
misused at all, is expended in those extravagances of dress 
and display, upon which, as safety-valves to feelings unem- 
ployed, the husband looks, of course, with politic indulgence. 
Display, in this country, takes the place of immorality in 
France. 

"We can conceive that M. Barthelemy's Lectures on the 
comparative condition of women, in different ages and coun- 
tries, might be extremely interesting. The French literature 
abounds, we know, with information on the nature and history 
of the gentler sex, in which the literature of England and 
other nations is unaccountably meagre. Though her compar- 
ative value, as to man, was definitely fixed by the Creator, 
Woman has never ceased to alternate, through all ages, be- 
tween elevation and abasement — the different stages and pe- 






LADIES vs. LORDS OF CREATION. 175 

riods of her condition presenting most startling contrasts and 
inconsistencies. She was man's full equal before the Fall, 
but by the command with which she was driven from Eden — 
{" thy desire shall be unto thy husband, and he shall rule 
over thee,") she was punished for her temptation by a general 
doom of subserviency ; a doom to which, as to all the general 
laws of Providence, there are cases of exception and reversion 
— the present " upper hand" of the Eves of New York adding 
another to the long catalogue headed with the super-mascu- 
line glory of Queen Semiramis. 

Of the domestic virtues carried to excess, there is a warning 
instance in the history of Greece. In the most highly civilized 
age of antiquity, the Greek wife and mother had become so 
exclusively a nurse of childron and overseer of servants, that 
another female class was created to furnish more equal com- 
panionship to the husband. The Hetcerce, as they were called, 
were women so highly cultivated, that their society was 
eagerly sought by such- sages as Plato and Socrates ; and 
while the virtuous wife was eonfined to her duties in the fe- 
male apartments, and not permitted to appear in public with 
her husband, or frequent places of amusement, this female 
companion (of no virtue) dined at his table, and accompanied 
him to the theatre, or went as the " lion" and guest of honor 
to the festivities which answer to our dinner-parties and soi- 
rees. This corrupt class never would have obtained such po- 
sition, of course, had the mothers and wives of Greece been 
sufficiently educated to furnish the intellectual companionship 
which the Hetserse, notwithstanding their immorality, sup- 
plied ; but they held possession of the most elevated office of 
the sexj throughout a long age of the most civilized period of 



176 THE KAG-BAG. 



antiquity. No shame was attached to associating with them. 
Many of their names have come down with those of the re- 
nowned men who frequented them. Aspasia, Leontium, 
Theodata, Lais and Phryne, are named with Pericles, Aris- 
tippus, Socrates and Plato, while the virtuous but uneducated 
wives of these great men are, centuries ago, forgotten. As an 
indication, at least, of what bearing a too exclusive attention 
to household cares may have on the condition of woman, this 
example from History may not be unsalutary — though, were 
unequal cultivation a danger to both sexes alike (as perhaps it 
should be) men might as well beware of giving too exclusive 
an attention to business ! 

We hope M. Barthelemy will analyze the causes of the 
contrasts existing at the present moment between the condi- 
tions of woman in this and the different nations of Europe. 
When abroad, three years since, we saw women in the streets 
of Dresden, harnessed with dogs and donkeys in market-carts, 
and throughout Germany the gentler sex are put to labor 
which, if tried in this country, would bring upon the husband 
the martyrdom of St. Stephen. In Prance, though much 
less moral than in other countries, Woman is an intimate sha- 
rer in the business and politics of the husband, and her men- 
tal education, to fit her for this companionship, is much more 
elevated and masculine than in this country. It would proba- 
bly startle American women to know what powerful influence 
is exercised by Prench women on those springs of govern- 
ment, commerce and society, which, here, are left, most ex- 
clusively, to male handling and direction. 

The true best position of the sex, it seems to us, is equally 



LADIES vs. LORDS OF CREATION. 177 

removed from slavish domesticity and out-of-door predomin- 
ance. We should desire to see Woman so cultivated, that no 
pursuit, pleasure or interest of her husband could be beyond 
her comprehension, counsel and sympathy, while at the same 
time we think that our own sex is better placed at the helm, 
and better in possession of the main-springs of politics and 
commerce. 

8* 



FEENCH SOCIETY, 

APROPOS OF THE SOCIETY OF NEW YORK. 



Under the above title, the cosmopolite and gay Editor of 
the " Revue du Nouveau Mofide" adjusts for us, a little, the 
telescope through which Paris is to be seen from the distance 
of New-York. The constant translations which we make 
from the amusing correspondence of " Eugene G-uinot" with 
the " Courrier des Etats TJnis" alarm his national pride, lest 
the virtue and modesty of France should be forgotten amidst 
such exclusive picturing of the miscellaneous gayeties of Paris. 
We translate a passage or two from M. de Trobriand's article, 
(occupying eleven pages of his Review,) by which the reader 
will see its purport : — 

" Paris is not merely the French capital. It is the central point, 

to which all who travel, flock for pleasure — the cosmopolite city where 

all quarters of the globe are represented. It is the universal Fair, 

where every possible exchange of moral and intellectual, as well as of 

(178) 



FRENCH SOCIETY. 179 



material wares, is offered to all. City of science and frivolity ; of lux- 
ury and misery ; of eccentricity and good sense ; of religion and impiety ; 
of morality and debauchery ; of politics and literature ; of philosophy 
and of indifference — city where the practical elbows the theoretical ; 
where the impossible becomes probable ; where some believe every- 
thing and some respect nothing — city of sublime devotedness and 
implacable selfishness ; of ardent patriotism and mocking scepticism — 
city, where good and evil so combat and mix, that the mind hesitates 
at every step of its observations, scarce daring to form any definite 
judgment of that strange problem which God can solve, but which man, 
certainly, is wholly unable to explain." 

* * " The round of Epicurean pleasures is, it must be confessed, 
the peculiarity of Paris best known and most sought. It is to this 
that strangers of all ranks and classess alike rush, and here, also, meet 
the French of the provinces, and the Parisians themselves of almost 
every kind. All mingle in this whirlpool of pleasure — those distin- 
guished by honors, by aristocratic titles, by personal recommendations, 
by renowned talents, by celebrity, solid or frivolous, by fortunes every 
way made. It is to this world of pleasure that Alfred de Musset, the 
most charming writer and the most thoroughly French mind of our 
epoch, somewhere alludes, when he says : — ' "Wisdom is a heavy stone 
which we roll up hill, and which tumbles eternally back upon the 
head ; while folly in a soap-bubble, which dances on before us, taking 
hues from all the lights and shades of creation.' It is these soap-bub- 
bles which the wind lifts and bears over the ocean, lodging them in 
the columns of the Courrier des Etats Unis, and it is these that Mr. 
"Willis, for the amusement of his readers, makes dance upon the tip 
of his pen. Thus arrive they, colored like the rainbow, to the columns 
of the Home Journal, and their naturalization, there, is done with no 
loss of their spicy quality, nor of their aroma of nationality. I deny not 
their origin, nor their ability. I object only to the conclusions drawn 
from them. All this is French, I grant— Parisian, I grant— but there 



180 33IE RAG BAG. 



are very different things which are French and Parisian as well, and it 
is this which I wish to impress upon the reader." 

M. de Trobriand goes on to analyze the currents by which 
French news flows to this country — the correspondence of 
Gaillardet, Gueroult, Fiorentino and others, and the able 
digests and selections of Arpin, the editor of the " Courrier" 
— and returns to Eugene Guinot, who, he says, " transmits 
to us the chronicle altogether Parisian, of the accessible world 
of elegant pleasure, tke«world of fashion." " The error is in 
forming a picture of the tvhole, from having the attention fixed 
only upon a portion of life in Paris." "The writings which 
most tend to this error are certainly those of Eugene Guinot. 
In Paris itself, the partial views which he gives are harmless, 
because their true extent and value are easily understood. 
But, in New- York, ignorance of the distinctions to be made, 
and the impossibility of knowing the real limits of their appli- 
cation to the divers elements of Parisian life, naturally mislead 
readers in their conclusions." 

Speaking of the Masked Balls, which the nobility of France 
are represented as frequenting in Carnival time, M. de Trobri- 
and draws a distinction between the presence of a Duke, or 
of a Duchess, at such a place, and denies that any lady, of 
respectable society, is ever the heroine of those often described 
adventures. That titles are adopted for the occasion, by the 
women who frequent them, and that the stories told may be 
of real Dukes and Barons, but of sham Duchesses and Baron- 
esses, he thinks very possible. He denies also that ladies of 
rank and station visit celebrated actresses of doubtful charac- 
ter. He says: — 



FRENCH SOCIETY. 181 



"It is, however, true, that all the artistic superiorities of France are 
surrounded with a lustre of eclat which embellishes their private life, 
to a degree known in no other country. When persons, by this sort 
of celebrity, are lifted above their original condition, they receive, from 
the higher classes, be they male or female, the most flattering and 
cordial reception — extended to them individually, however, and not 
adding any importance to their profession. But we see an instance of 
how this is effected by circumstances : There was a time when Made- 
moiselle Rachel, raised from the lowest condition to the highest grade 
of the French stage, was invited to the houses of the first officers of 
the Government, and of other persons of rank. She appeared there 
in the double character of a great tragedienne and a young girl of spot- 
less reputation. When, of this two-fold personality, only the first re- 
mained 3 the doors of society were closed against her. It is to be 
noticed, besides, that, even while invited to the houses of men of rank, 
and receiving visits from them at her own house, she was not visited 
also by their wives." 

Speaking with knowledge and authority, as the courtly-bred 
Editor of the ".Revue" unquestionably does, it will be a mat- 
ter of some interest to our readers if we call their attention to 
a distinction or two of French Society which we have never 
before seen specified so distinctly in print. Defining the dif- 
ference of social rank given by the different kinds of artistic 
celebrity, he says : — 

" Painters and sculptors may attain a rank with which no other 
celebrity can compete. When Charles V. picked up the dropped pencil 
of Titian, he rendered striking homage to another royalty whose deeds 
would five longer than his own. Raphael and Michael Angelo march 
to posterity with brows on a level with the proudest, and it is only, 
Caesar or Alexander who can rise above them. In our own time, the 
Duke of Orleans made a pride of his intimacy with distinguished 
painters, while he made a secret peccadillo of his acquaintance, with 



182 



THE RAG-BAG. 



great actresses. It must always Tbe so. Men like Lacroix, Ingres, 
Delaroche, Vernet, are not only artists of genius, but men of science 
and inspiration — of intelligence almost universal. Actors, however, 
do but represent the genius of otters. The most elevated point which 
they can attain, is a complete absorption of all their faculties in a ficti- 
tious personality, an identification of themselves with the passions which 
another has conceived. If this is carried, as in Talma, to genius, it is 
genius which cannot employ itself on its own material, and it remains 
chained to the track which is imperiously traced for it, by those to 
whom it is a slave. This it is that divides the existence of actors into 
two parts so completely separate, and thus it is that their individual 
character has to contend with their fame as actors, and the more strong 
the blaze upon them when on the stage, the deeper the shadow of con- 
trast which falls on their private life. Whether just or not, this pre- 
judice prevails, and if cases occur where the individual life protests 
against this obscurity, it is oftenest by a kind of notoriety which 
awakens additional hostility on the part of society. The theatre, in 
fact, is a dangerous school. To learn how best to express passion, in 
its most burning energy, is not the best guard against its influence, 
and, in truth, there are no human beings more exposed to the perils 
of passion than actors and actresses. I am not he who would ' throw 
the first stone,' but I analyze and mention this liability of the profes- 
sion as one of the causes which drive them from society." 

As this is avowedly written to aid New York in looking at 
the Parisian scale of social life, and as our own scale is in 
process of formation, we had better indicate, perhaps, where 
it might be possible to improve on the European model. We 
wish we had time and room to do this more at large, but can 
perhaps point distinctly though briefly at what we mean. 
That the society of actors and actresses is the most entertain- 
ing and agreeable of all society, is generally admitted. That 



FRENCH SOCIETY. 183 



men of rank and of high official standing, in Europe, frequent 
it themselves, with no imputation on their moral character, 
but do nqt allow their wives to frequent it, is also understood. 
That it is the wit, playfulness of thought and manner, disre- 
gard of burthensome etiquette, quaint mixture of the dramatic 
with the common-place, impulsiveness and frankness — and not 
the immorality — of the class, which makes its charm, is, we 
fancy, what every one would allow as well. But, where 
these fascinating qualities exist toithout the immorality, as 
they do in many cases, is it not a pity, (in a dull world like 
this) that so charming a feature should be lost to the best so- 
ciety of gentlemen and ladies ? Should American wives avoid 
the society of actors and actresses, (because Marchionesses and 
Baronesses do) and let their husbands enjoy its fascination (as 
Marquises and Barons do,) without them ? Would it not act 
powerfully on the moral character of the profession, if actors 
and actresses were excluded from society only on the same 
grounds with other people, and welcomed gladly to circles 
they could so enliven and embellish, as long as they were of 
as good repute as other people ? "We suggest a compromise, 
in this matter, as very good material for an Americanism. 



POST-MOETUUM SOIEEE 



Not being entirely persuaded, as yet, of our own omnis- 
cience, we are unwilling to decline knowing anything more 
and we, therefore, accepted an invitation, lately, to pass an 
evening with the " Knockers." The inducement was some 
what strengthened by the possibility that spirits have prefer 
ences as to the society they are expected to meet — for the 
party was small, and would be considered select, we shouk 
suppose, in any world populated principally from this. "We 
venture to name the gentlemen, as it is something when spirits 
knock, (with or without bodies,) to know whom they are , 
knocking for ; and we shall not hear, till we are beyond " affi- 
davits," whether there was anything compromising in the 
uncertain portion of the company. Our host was Eev. Eufus ' 
W. Griswold, and, present, were Fenimore Cooper, Eev. Dr. I 
Hawks, Mr. Bryant, Mr. Bancroft, Gen. Lyman, Tuckerman | 

(184) 



POST-MORTUUM SOIREE. 185 

the Essayist, Dr. Francis, Dr. Marcy, Mr. Bigelow, of the 
Evening Post, Mr. Kipley, of the Tribune, and one or two 
others. 

On our way in, we saw the " Knocking Party," of four 
ladies, looking for the house — into which (it is perhaps essen- 
tial to state,) they had never before entered, and the floors 
and walls of which they had had no opportunity, of course, to 
cram with accomplices and hammers. A stout lady, of the 
ordinary small town type of maternity, led the way, followed 
by three young ladies considerably prettier than the average. 
The eldest of these, Mrs. Pish, is a widow, perhaps twenty- 
five years of age, and she is the spokeswoman of the knocking 
spirits ; though we are a little surprised, precedent and all 
things considered, that one of the virgins was not elected for 
that office. The two Misses Fox, as well as their married 
sister, have nerves so plumply clad in health and tranquility, 
that it is difficult to reconcile their appearance with the fact 
that they have been worked upon for two years, by the phe- 
nomena of unexplained visitations ; and, indeed, throughout 
the evening, we were struck with their combined good-humor 
and simplicity, and the ease and unpretendingness with which 
they let their visitors (from both worlds) have their own way. 
They evidently won on the respect and liking of all present, 
as the evening went on. 

[We had written the above when the Tribune was handed 
in, containing a carefully prepared and most correct account 
of the spirit interviews. We will first copy it, thus making 
more sure of leaving nothing untold, and will afterwards add 
what little else we chanced personally to observe.] 



186 THE RAG-BAG. 

" For some time, perhaps a little over half an hour, after the arrival 
of the ladies, no sounds were heard, and the company gave obvious 
symptoms of impatience. They were then requested to draw nearer 
the table, which was in front of the ladies, and form themselves into a 
compact circle. Soon after, faint sounds began to be heard from 
under the floor, around the table and in different parts of the room. 
They increased in loudness and frequency, becoming so clear and dis- 
tinct that no one could deny their presence, nor trace them to any 
visible cause. The question was now asked by the ghost seers, " will 
the spirits converse with any one present ?" No satisfactory answer 
was obtained, though there was a general rumbling succession of sounds, 
the purport of which appeared to be ambiguous, to those who professed 
to be most conversant with the language. The question was then put 
more definitely, with regard to several gentlemen present. After a 
good deal of coquetting, it was said that replies would be given to 
any questions proposed by Dr. Marcy. He inquired whether the spirit 
which he wished to converse with was a relation — was a child — and 
what was its age at the time of its death. We understood Dr. 
Marcy to say that the answers were correct, but nothing worthy of 
special notice was elicited. 

" Mr. Henry T. Tuckerman was the next to propound inquiries, 
which, contrary to the usual custom, he expressed audibly, so as to be 
heard by the ladies and the whole company. Having fixed in his 
mind the name of an individual, he asked, ' Did he live in New- York ?' 
No answer. ' In Baltimore ? In Cambridge ? In Boston V — three 
distinct raps, which is the sign of an affirmative answer. A negative is 
indicated by silence. Mr. T. continued, ' Was he a lawyer ? A mer- 
chant ? A physician ? A clergyman ?' Knocks. ' Was he an Episcopa- 
lian? A Presbyterian? A Unitarian?' — going over the names of,, 
the principal sects. No answer. At the suggestion of a gentleman, 
Mr. T. asked, ' Was he a Christian V Knocks. Mr. T. then asked 
the age of the person in a series of tens. ' Was he twenty years old 



POST-MORTUUM SOIREE. 187 

at the time of his death? Was he thirty? Fifty 7 Sixty ?' Knocks. 
'Has he left a family?' Knocks. ' Children V Knocks. 'Five? 
Three ? Two ?' Knocks. ' Did he die in Boston ? In Philadelphia ? 
In Albany? In Northampton ? In Bennington ?' Knocks. 'Did he 
die of consumption ? Of fever ? Of Cholera ? Of old age ?' Knocks. 

" The person in Mr. Tuckerman's mind was the late Eev. Dr. Chan- 
ning of Boston, who died in Bennington, Vt., while on a journey. The 
degree of correctness in the answers may be judged by the reader. It 
may be stated, however, that for the last years of his life Dr. C. dis- 
claimed the use of all sectarian names, preferring to be called only 
Christian, and that though under seventy, his physical powers had 
long suffered from premature exhaustion. 

" Rev. Dr. Hawks was then urgently solicited by several of the party 
to propose inquiries, to which, after some hesitation, he reluctantly 
consented. He did not meet with any great success. The sounds 
uttered were faint, almost inaudible at several times, and in the great 
majority of cases indicated an incorrect reply. Dr. Hawks pursued 
his inquiries with exemplary patience, but, after several more ineffec- 
tual attempts, he resigned the floor to Dr. John W. Francis, who was 
welcomed with a general roll of knockings, from the mysterious agents, 
seeming to claim the privilege of old and intimate acquaintance. 
"With his proverbial urbanity, seating himself as if at the bed-side of 
a patient, Dr. F. asked in terms of the most insinuating blandness, 
' whether the spirits present would converse with any member of the 
company ? "Would they vouchsafe to speak to his illustrious friend, 
the world renowned author, Mr. Cooper ? Would they converse with 
the great American poet, Mr. Bryant ?' To these flattering invitations 
no reply was given. ' Would they speak to so humble an individual 
j as himself?' Loud knocks. Dr. F. then asked, fixing on a per- 
Bon : ' Was he an American ? Was he an Englishman ? Was he a 
Scotchman ? The knocks were loud and unanimous. ' Was he a mer- 
chant? Was he a lawyer? Was he an author?' Loud knocks. 



I! 



THE RAG-BAG. 



1 Was he a poet ?' Yes, in distinct knocks. ' Will you tell his name ?' 
Here the spirits called for the alphabet, by sounds intelligible to the 
ghost-seers. The answers by this method are given in knocks at the 
letter desired when the alphabet is repeated by one of the ladies. It 
then spelled out B-u-r — when the company indiscreetly, but spontane- 
ously interrupted, by crying out Robert Burns. This was the true 
answer, and after the interview with the favorite Scotch poet, Dr. F. 
declined any further communication. 

:( Mr. J. Fenimore Cooper was then requested to enter into the 
supra-mundane sphere, and proceeded to interrogate the spirits, with 
the most imperturbable self-possession and deliberation. After several 
desultory questions, from which no satisfactory answers were obtained, 
Mr. C. commenced a new series of inquiries. Is the person I inquire 
about a relative ? Yes, was at once indicated by the knocks. A near 
relative ? Yes. A man ? No answer. A woman ? Yes. A daugh- 
ter ? A mother ? A wife ? No answer. A sister ? Yes. Mr. 0. 
then asked the number of years since her death. To this the answer 
was given in rapid and indistinct raps, some counting forty-five, others 
forty-nine, fifty-four, etc. After considerable parleying as to the man- 
ner in which the question should be answered, the consent of the invis- 
ible interlocutor was given to knock the year so slowly that they 
might be distinctly counted. This was done. Knock — knock — knock 
— for what seemed over a minute, till the number amounted to fifty, 
and was unanimously announced by the company. Mr. 0. now asked, 
Did she die of consumption ? — naming several diseases, to which no 
answer was given. Did she die by accident ? Yes. Was she killed 
by lightning? Was she shot? Was she lost at sea? Did she fall 
from a carriage ? Was she thrown from a horse ? Yes. 

" Mr. Cooper did not pursue his inquiries any further, and stated to 
the company that the answers were correct, the person alluded to by 
him being a sister, who, just fifty years ago the present month, was 
killed by being thrown from a horse. 



POST-MOBTUUM SOIREE. 189 

" The evening was now far advanced, and it was not thought desira- 
ble to continue the colloquies any further. At the suggestion of sev- 
eral gentlemen, the ladies removed from the sofa, where they had sat 
during the evening, and remained standing in another part of the room. 
The knockings were now heard on the doors, at both ends of the room, 
producing a vibration on the panels, which was felt by every one who 
touched them. Different gentlemen stood on the outside and the 
inside of the door at the same time, when loud knockings were heard 
on the side opposite to that where they stood. The ladies were at such 
a distance from the door in both cases, as to lend no countenance to 
the idea that the sounds were produced by any direct communication 
with them. They now went into a parlor, under the room in which 
the party was held, accompanied by several gentlemen, and the souuds 
were then produced with great distinctness, causing sensible vibrations 
in the sofa, and apparently coming from a thick hearth-rug before the 
fireplace, as well as from other quarters of the room." 

We could not but be struck with the disinclination which 
these spirits seem to have for any intercourse with editors. A 
modified assent by knockings, more or -less strong, was given 
to every other proposal. When asked by Mrs. Pish, 
" would the spirits converse with Dr. Francis ?" the knocking 
was so loud and immediate as to create a general laugh. The 
urbane Doctor was so evidently a favorite in the nether world 
that it suggested a query in our own mind, whether politeness 
may not go farther even than we suppose. The knocking 
next loudest was the assent given to an interview with Dr. 
Hawks. To Mr. Cooper there was apparently no objection, 
though the assent was not very cordial ; but he seemed to 
improve on acquaintance, for, to no one, were the spirits half 
so willing to repeat their revelations twice over, or half so 
explicit. To Mr. Tuckerman and Dr. Marcy, they were mo- 
derately gracious and communicative. The company, however 



190 THE RAG-BAG. 



(probably with an eye to the improvement given to a descrip- 
tion, by the "pars magna fui") insisted on direct applications 
for interviews with the members of the Press. " "Would the 
Spirits converse with Mr. Eipley of the Tribune 2" No answer. 
" Would the Spirits converse with Mr. Bryant 2" No answer. 
The last two refusals surprised us somewhat, for we had sup- 
posed that the world of imagination was between this and the 
Spirit-land — half-way to whence these knockers come, that is 
to say — and we expected that Mr. Bryant and ourself, as men 
who had done business in that intermediate world, would have 
been looked upon as neighbors.. Either our trans-Styx-ic geo- 
graphy is wrong — or ghosts have no taste for poets — or news- 
paper Editors (and this we could believe with very little more 
evidence) have no immediate connection with Elysium. If we 
had been alone, in our " dead cut," by the way, we might 
have thought it a resentment for our neglect of a previous in- 
vitation ; for we had received the following pokerish note, a 
few days before, and in the multiplicity of engagements, had 
forgotten to attend to it : — 

" Mrs. Fox and her daughters, having received communications from 
the Spiritual world, would be happy to see Mr. Willis at Barnum's Ho- 
tel, at any horn* most convenient to himself." 

What a "whirl we live in (let us remark here, as gravely as 
you please !) when even the offer of immediate news from an- 
other world can be thrown aside among neglected invitations ! 

One little peculiarity, hitherto unremarked, came to our no- 
tice. The questioner's seat, to give him access to paper and 
pencil, was on one side of the table, and, chancing to occupy 
the place between him and the ladies, we had accidentally 
thrown our arm over the back of his chair. Whenever the 



POST-MORTUUM SOIREE, 19J 

knockings occurred, we observed that his chair was shaken, 
though our own intermediate chair, and the two standing im- 
mediately behind, were unmoved. "We called attention to it, 
and it was corroborated by the other gentlemen. "With such 
heavy weight in the chair as Mr. Cooper's, or Dr. Francis's, 
it would have taken a blow with a heavy hammer to have 
produced so much of a vibration. That spirits can exercise 
mechanical force at all, is something new to believe. And the 
law of mechanics would be equally puzzled (cavillers insisting 
that the ladies themselves produce these noises and vibrations) 
to explain how Mr. Cooper's chair was shaken, when we aver, 
that, between their petticoats and him, we«-sat unmoved, posi- 
tively cutting off all physical and mortal communication. We 
may add that the ladies gave no particular attention to the 
phenomena,, talking willingly to any one while the knockings 
were going on. Later in the evening, it was proposed to the 
Spirits to let us see them move the table across the room — a 
feat they are said to have done — but' they were not in the 
humor. 

An experiment was tried, as to what the Invisibles would 
do with one of the ladies alone, or with two without the third, 
or with a gentleman, and one or two of the ladies. The stron- 
gest knockings were on the floor beneath, when the widow 
and her two sisters stood anywhere together. With two of 
them the knocks were fainter. We placed ourself between 
the widow and one of the young ladies, and the Spirits would 
have nothing to say to them in our company. To one of the 
virgins, or to the widow singly, there was no demonstration. 
The spell, evidently, is in the combination and close locality 
of these three. Yet it seems communicable, with neighbor- 



192 THE RAG-BAG. 



hood and time. Mrs. Fish mentioned that, in Eochester, the 
knocking visitation had spread, extending, at present, to twen- 
ty or thirty families. If it is to " spread" the world over, and 
if we are all to have spirits at our command, such as are alrea- 
dy proved to be able to shake chairs and move tables, there will 
soon come a Fulton or a Morse, who will put this ghost-power 
into harness, and it will follow Steam and Electricity in doing 
man's work for him. Things really look like a removal of 
man's curse at the Fall, labor ; and, if chloroform do as much 
for womarC s curse, so that she will no longer " bring forth in 
sorrow," we do not see much hindrance in the way of an early 
Millenium. It would be wise, we fancy, pretty soon, to wash 
our hands and take a holiday a little oftener, that " all play 
and no work" may not prove rather tedious than otherwise, 
when it comes, after all ! 

With three men on the outside of a door, and three on the 
inside, watching it closely, that door could not be so violently 
knocked upon as to tremble, though no visible force ap- 
proached it, without giving one something to believe. "We 
witnessed this, with one hand upon the panels, and what can 
it be, but the exercise of a power beyond anything of which 
we have hitherto known the laws ? That it is to be subject 
to human control seems probable, for it acts, at present, in a 
certain obedience to human orders, and is most obedient to 
those who have used it longest. There seems an alphabet to 
learn, in this as in other new fields of knowledge ; and, indeed, 
— considering the confusion of ideas in the minds of those who 
visit and try to talk, off-hand, with these newly-discovered 
" natives,"— it is wonderful that the Knockers make them- 
selves as well understood as they already do. If Providence 



POST-MORTUUM SOIREE. 193 

design to subject an intelligent power to our service — (in addi- 
tion to the unintelligent miracle-workers, Steam and Electri- 
city, which have successively been given us) — the beginnings 
would, by all precedent, be at least as imperfect and as dimly 
understood as these are. 

The suggestions and " outside" bearings of this matter are 
many and curious. If these knocking answers to questions 
are made, (as many insist) by electric detonations, and if dis- 
embodied spirits are still moving, consciously, among us, and 
have thus found an agent, at last, electricity, by which they 
can communicate ivith the world they have left, it must soon, in 
the progressive nature of things, ripen to an intercourse be- 
tween this and the spirit- world. The failure of the " Cincin- 
natians" to establish their " clairvoyant telegraph," three or 
four years ago, may have been owing to the fact that the new 
power is an intelligence, and will not be basely employed to 
" fetch and carry" for trade. But we understand it has con- 
sented to be employed for healing. A report was made to the 
Homcepathic College, of New York, recently, that a physician 
had employed these Knockers to consult the Spirit of Hahne- 
man as to a case despaired of, and the instructions given in 
the reply had been followed, to the cure of the patient. The 
\ " Knocking" differs from clairvoyance, in the fact, that the 
! Spirit, in the former case, speaks first — and it is an advance 
I upon clairvoyance, of course, as Spirits know where they can 
I be of use, better than we, and are more at leisure to knock 
land tell us, than we to look up a clairvoyant. But then comes 
the wonder, how those, who have got well out of this world, 
should either wish or consent to have anything more to do 
with it ! Or is it as schoolmasters go back to mix with chil- 



194 



THE KAG-BAG. 



dren for their good, or as missionaries fall behind, in the march 
of civilization, to carry light to the benighted heathen who are 
coming on rather too slowly ? 

We were very glad to see Mr. Cooper interested in the 
" Knockers" the other evening, for he is one of the few men 
not afraid of the world, and whatever he sees and believes, 
with his logical and bold mind, he has the courage to tell, and 
tell well. The numerous places in which, these Knockings 
have been heard, within the past year, show that the ghosts 
at large have got the trick of it, and the " demonstration" alto- 
gether, to our thinking, is of sufficient extent and respectabil- 
ity to warrant grave attention. An electric telegraph across 
the Styx, before they get one across the Atlantic, would make 
death less of a separation from friends than a voyage to Eu- 
rope — but there is no end to the speculation on the subject, 
and we leave it with our readers. 






DEESS EXCITEMENT, 

AND PKOBABLE INCREASE OF FEMALE BEAUTY. 



The steamboat Public Excitement seldom makes precisely 
the voyage which the steam was got up for. The " hands" 
who do the work of getting in coal and provisions, talk loudly 
of the port whither she is supposed to be bound ; and even 
the captain and clerk confidently mark the course upon the 
chart — but Common Good is the owner ; and, at the last mo- 
ment, the pilot Expediency is sent on board, and the boat 
obeys the rudder, and takes an unexpected direction, as quiet- 
ly as if captain and crew, coal and piston, had, all the time, 
known whither they were to drive her. 

We have noticed the operation of this principle, in matters 

more grave than the one by which, as we suppose, it is about 

to be illustrated. Voyages in Politics and Religion can seldom be 

judged of, exactly, by the advertisements beforehand. It is a 

question that has been almost as much discussed, however, as a 

(195) 



196 



THE RAG-BAG. 



schism or a Presidency, viz :. short or long petticoats for 
ladies, that we wish to say, now, our first word upon — our 
abstaining from the subject, hitherto, having been the result 
of an impression that the mere point of dispute, thus far, was 
one that the ladies could better decide for themselves ; and 
our speaking of it, now, being prompted by a belief that the 
excitement would abandon the one particular point hitherto 
discussed, and turn to a reform much more general and im- 
portant. 

The universal remark, as to the proposed female adoption 
of short frock and trousers, is, that it %oould suit one lady in 
ten. Is the reader aware of the novelty and importance of 
having this remark universally made by the ladies, as to any 
one fashion whatever ? It is equally true of almost every 
mode which milliners and mantua-makers invent. The last 
bonnet, for instance, which made every lady in the city look 
as if her face were thrust through a hole in a spread fan, was 
becoming, only to one whose whole beauty was in her profile 
— a beauty which, in a close bonnet, is never seen — yet, 
though this is true of not more than one in a hundred, the 
other ninety-nine were sacrificed to the new mode with ser- 
vile instantaneousness. Of what fashion is it not equally 
true ? "With women short and tall, women high-shouldered 
and low-shouldered, women stooping and straight-backed, 
women with different complexions and movements, and women 
with plumpness and thinness most variously distributed, what i 
absurdity is any one fashion to be worn by all ! The " Pro- 
crustes bed" of the tyrant, which cut off legs that were too I 
long to fit it, and stretched legs that were too short, was more 
likely to suit customers, taken as they come. 



DRESS EXCITEMENT. I97 

But, let us not blame the ladies only, for this servility. — 
Their fashions are usually becoming to somebody, while the 
men are equally servile to fashions becoming to nobody. Half 
shut your eyes in Broadway at the present moment, and the 
dandies look like a procession of tail-less roosters. Bob-tail 
coats are the fashion — but, to whom is a bob-tail becoming, 
except (from its propriety) to a groom or a post-boy ? The 
commonest law of beauty, for a male figure, demands broad 
shoulders and narrow hips — yet here is a universal fashion, 
which so clips the skirts that the edges stand out with the 
curve at the waist, and make a man's hips look as progeni- 
tively big as a woman's. There is the same uninquiring ser- 
vility as to every male fashion that comes up — beards and 
hats, cravat-ties and waistcoats, trousers and shirt-bosoms. — 
Lately, even, (and we never knew anything droller in the 
whole history of fashion's caprices,) there could scarce be 
found a young man in New York, the edges of whose hair 
were not turned under from ear to ear, like the roller of a 
curtain, with the- barber's curling-tongs ! 

Against the slavery of fashion, .our republican country is 
properly the place for the first revolt. Of all the weeds of 
monarchy and aristocracy, such servile imitation of the exte- 
rior of others is the most rank and unprofitable. It extends to 
other apings of our superiors. " Every one of Alexander's 
followers," says Montaigne, " carried their heads on one side 
as he did ; and the flatterers of Dionysius ran against each 
other in his presence, and stumbled at, and overturned what- 
ever was under foot, to seem as purblind as he. Deafness has 
been affected for the same reason; and, because the Emperor 
hated his wife, Plutarch records that the courtiers repudiated 



198 THE RAG-BAG. 



theirs whom the}^ loved ; and, which is yet more, uncleanness 
and all manner of dissoluteness has been 171 fashion." 

"We repeat, that we see signs, which look to us as if the 
present excitement as to one fashion were turning into a uni- 
versal inquiry as to the sense or propriety oft any fashion at all. 
"When the subject shall have been fully discussed, and public 
attention fully awakened, common sense will probably take 
the direction of the matter, and opinion will settle in some 
shape which, at least, may reject former excesses and absurd- 
ities. Some moderate similarity of dress is doubtless neces- 
sary, and there are proper times and places for long dresses 
and short dresses. These and other points the ladies are like- 
ly to come to new decisions about. While they consult 
health, cleanliness and convenience, however, we venture to 
express a hope that they will get rid of the present slavish uni- 
formity — that what is becoming to each may be worn without 
fear of unfashionableness, and that, in this way, we may see 
every woman dressed somewhat differently, and to her own 
best advantage, and the proportion of beauty largely increased, 
as it would, thereby, most assuredly be. 



GHOST-KNOCKING 



The damage to the renting of a house by the knowledge 

that there have been mysterious noises heard in it, and the 

unwillingness of most persons to become .subjects of public 

conjecture and curiosity, would prevent the making public of 

most of the instances — supposing that spirit-knockings were 

now becoming general and frequent. Chancing, ourself, to 

know of three cases, the publicity of which is carefully avoided 

for these reasons, (and not seeing how or why we should 

know more of such things than our neighbors,) we 

feel justified in thinking if probable that the phenomenon — 

whatever it be — is more common than has been supposed. It 

is not two ghosts nor twenty, who have the monopoly of it — 

not two impostors nor twenty, (if imposture it be,) who have 

hit on the same trick, with the same manner of performing it, 

in different and very distant places. Let it turn out what it 

will, the topic is one so much discussed =that all which throws 

' (199) 



200 THE RAG-BAG. 



light upon it is interesting, and we will " scoop up" for oar 
readers the bubble or so that has floated from the general 
stream into our eddy editorial. 

The first story we have to tell is rather to the disparage- 
ment of ghosts, and goes to show that the mind may remain 
pretty much the same, for a while, after death, weaknesses and 
all. It was narrated in a letter to a private gentleman in this 
city, by an English friend with whom he is in familiar corres- 
pondence. Names cannot be given, for the reasons we speci- 
fied in the first sentence of this article, and it was written with 
no thought of publicity — but the writer is a man of remark- 
able mind and attainments, and the correspondence is mainly 
upon topics of religious and moral progress. We briefly give 
the facts : — 

The wife and children of Mr. W. had been very much dis- 
turbed for some months, by unaccountable knockings. An 
occasional and inexplicable waving of their bed curtains was 
another phenomenon which troubled them. They occupied an 
old house, of which Mr. W. had a long lease; but, as he 
wished to dispose of his lease, and move to another part of 
London, and as he thought these phenomena were tricks that 
would be explained, he forbade a mention of the circumstances, 
as likely to prejudice the lease, and they were a family secret 
accordingly. Though not a physician, he was a man of con- 
siderable medical knowledge, and, a female cousin being sub- 
ject to fits of epilepsy, he had tried experiments of animal 
magnetism for her cure. These, had been partially successful, 
when, on magnetizing her, in one of her fits, she changed 
from a passive state to a look of intelligence. 



GHOST-KNOCKINGS. 201 

" What a singular old woman is in the room !" she suddenly 
exclaimed. 

No one being present but Mr. "W". and his wife, he ques- 
tioned the epileptic, getting gradually a description by which 
they recognized his grandmother, who had been dead several 
years. He requested her to ask the old lady what she 
wanted. 

" She is most anxious to speak to yourself," was the reply. 

Farther parley induced the venerable ghost to open her 
mind through a second person. She was distressed at the 
neglect with which her dresses and ornaments were treated, 
her favorite and valuable things left to mould in out-of-the-way 
corners, in a way that was insufferable, even where she was. 

Having entirely forgotten the existence of these articles, 
Mr. W. inquired where they were. The old lady at once gave 
explicit directions where they could be found, and found they 
were; in the very places described, and in the very condition 
which had vexed the unchanged memory of the departed. 
They were attended to, and there were no more supernatural 
noises for some months. 

A- recurrence of an attack, while the cousin was on a visit to 
the house, some time afterwards, brought animal magnetism 
again into play, and, at the moment of the patient's subjection 
to the influence, a violent knocking was once more heard. The 
patient did not, this time, become clairvoyant, and no commu- 
nication was received in any intelligible shape from the unlaid 
grandmother. The knockings at night were resumed, how- 
ever, and Mr. W. determined to try if he could himself get a 
demonstration, and, in that case, to speak his mind, with the 
hope that deafness was not among the ills that ex-flesh is heir 
9* 



202 THE RAG-BAG. 



to. He took a book and kept himself awake till after midnight, 
and then tried to will up the knockings. At two, they sud- 
denly resounded, and he then proceeded to give his grand- 
mother a lecture. He laid before her, in plain terms, the way 
she was disturbing the family, the risk of damaging his inter- 
ests, and the better things she ought, for decency's sake, to 
appear to be thinking about, between this and judgment day. 
As he went on, the knockings, by their increased rapidity as 
they broke in, from time to time, expressed displeasure ; and, 
at the last allusion and its reproof, there was a perfect storm 
of rappings. Mr. "W. then bade his grandmother good-night, 
and went to bed — since which the knockings have been no more 
heard. 

Droll as this is, it is narrated with perfect sincerity by a 
strong-minded and highly educated man, and we call on the 
reader to credit thus much — though he may put what con- 
struction he pleases on the circumstances it details for facts. 
Supposing it true, it would suggest a query reasonable enough, 
viz : — whether those who were wedded most exclusively to 
this life and its trivialities are not those who cling most to it 
after death, and are not most eager and most likely to stumble 
on some way to speak to us. Ghosts have continually appear- 
ed, to see about property, buried money, and such mere mat- 
ters of this world, whereas no intelligent ghost (that we ever 
heard of, at least,) has once put his nose back, through the 
dropped curtain of time and desire, to tell us a single thing 
that is either useful or agreeable. And yet, that all ghosts, 
gentle and simple, see things with their new eyes which it 
would be the most interesting for us to know, can scarcely be 
doubted. Is it possible that none but a " low" ghost would 



GHOST-KNOCKINGS. 



203 



have any communication with us ? The reader will follow 
out the idea. 

To give a second instance : — 

A gentleman of our acquaintance, who had been a politi- 
cian for many years, (and, of course, had no nerves that any- 
thing unsubstantial could much worry,) heard of a farm 
which could be bought cheap, because " the house was haunt- 
ed." Peeling simply obliged to the ghost for the accommoda- 
tion, he became the proprietor, and moved there with his 
family, for summer quarters. His wife had no objection 
to the disqualification of the place, for she was a Swedenbor- 
gian, and was willing to see any spirit who had an errand to 
her. They had been there but a short time when the '" knock- 
ings" commenced. The new tenant was a famous cross- 
examining lawyer, and would believe nothing on plausibilities. 
He set all his wits to work to discover how the ghosts did their 
pounding — for they were the blows of a sledge hammer ap - 
parently — and, the house being a wooden one, the disturbance 
to sleep and comfort amounted to a serious nuisance. He was 
wholly unsuccessful. Three days ago he told the writer of 
this that it was still a complete mystery. His wife, (to her 
own belief,) has seen a spirit walk through the locked door 
of her bed-room, but as it made no communication, they remain 
in the dark as to its object. The place has no history beyond 
crops. It bas been occupied always by such people as none but 
very illiterate ghosts could have had any acquaintance with. 

One instance more : — 

A family of young people, whom we know very well, moved 
into a new three -story brick house, in the upper part of this city, 
last year. Spirits are supposed to haunt only antiquated 



204 



THE KAG-EAG. 



dwellings, but, here, they even got the start of rats, cockroa- 
ches, and other nuisances, for, unaccountable knockings were 
heard before the coming in of the bill for the first quarter's 
rent. They sent down to order the servants to stop pounding, 
on the evening when they first heard it, but the cook was 
alone and had done nothing of the kind. ' They lit candles at 
night, and, again and again, ransacked the house from garret 
to cellar, to find out what that confounded knocking could be, 
and discovered nothing that would any way explain it. Being 
young people full of health, and with no unsettled accounts 
worth a dead man's while to come back about, they are get- 
ting gradually indifferent to it, already alluding to the matter 
with more fun than terror. 

It is a point gained, (as a riddance of fright on such subjects,) 
even if we may reasonably question whether all ghosts are 
respectable enough to be worthy of notice. If, indeed, (as we 
suggested in our paper of last week,) a new and intelligent 
medium of electricity is to be subjected to our service — if 
spirits who will, now, at command, move tables and shake 
chairs, are to be put under the control of the living — they are, 
of course, inferior to the spirits still in the body. Is it not a 
class of the damned who are about being turned to account? 
"Was there not wanted, in the progress of the world, an intel- 
ligent slave, to play the messenger between our intellects and 
the clearer perceptions of the spirit world, and has not Provi- 
dence given us a clue to communication with this new agent, 
in these electrical knockings which may be the first lessons in 
an alphabet of spirit language ? 

Of course there will be much less sinning, when a ghost can 
be put on the stand for a witness ; and, indeed, it is in this 



GHOST-KNOCKINGS. 205 



view, mainly, that we fear it to be a thing for which the world 
is not quite ready. That spirits are coolly looking on and 
listening, whatever we do and say, is a fact that has not hith- 
erto been much of an embarrassment to us — but, when they 
can go and tell! — virtue becomes inevitable! The pulpit's 
duty — encouragement to these knockings — is very clear ; but 
will it be popular, on the, whole, to know things easier than 
at present, and will people be willing to see established, (what 
seems very likely,) a system of communication between the 
other world and this, for a trifling ghostage, as now between 
cities for a trifling postage — news by ghost easy as news by 
post? It is a subject with, as Bulwer says, " opens up."* 

* If any one of our clerical friends is- at a loss for a text to a sermon 
on this subject, we refer him to Job, chap. 1, verse 7. 



THE "NEWSPAPER ANTIDOTE." 



Mr. Emerson had the announcing of an era, when he was 
the first to say that " Lectures were to be the antidote to the 
newspaper." How the gentlemen Small Pox of the Press 
will relish this setting up of Lecturers as the Kine-pock-racy 
of the country, we'shall look with some interest to see*; but 
the curative itself, thus audaciously announced, is too imjDort- 
ant a topic to pass over, and we may perhaps say a word or 
two, as to how so long latent a principle has been brought un- 
expectedly to bear. 

The vaccination of the Press has been a subject of experi- 
ment ; but, like the Providence that sent a cure for the great- 
est scourge of mankind, not through the patient alembics of 
science, but by the chance-fingered udders of a diseased cow, 
it was left to indirect means to achieve it. That the newspa- 
per, which is the only universal medium to the popular 
mind, should not be laden with a principle of moral health, 

(206) 



THE " NEWSPAPER ANTIDOTE." 207 

from the country's purest and best intellect, has seemed, we 
dare say, not only lamentable but unaccountable, to those 
who have merely observed and reasoned upon it. They have 
wondered why Emerson and Henry James, Dewey and Giles, 
YVhipple and Wendell Holmes, were not Editors. Instead of 
delivering six lectures a year, to audiences of four or five 
hundred, why were not such intellects pouring out their trea- 
sures, daily, each one, to fifty thousand readers ? Why was 
the elephant harnessed to the go-cart, and the mouse to the 
load of hay ? 

" In the way of business," like other Editors, we have often 
turned over the possibility of enlisting this first quality of mind 
for the Press. A charming book makes the subscription list 
sigh for as charming an " article," and a brilliant lecture sug- 
gests what it would cost to have as brilliant a " leader." We 
have respectfully inquired into the productive habits of genius, 
made experiments of what it would furnish " to order," and 
seen experiments made by other Editors and periodicals. Of 
our own experiments, we may mention one who is too fa- 
mous to do more than smile, if he ever hears of it — Thacke- 
ray. Seeing the inimitable graphic power of some of his 
sketches of real life, we engaged him, some years ago, to give 
us letters from London. But it was like arranging with a 
goose fo-r a regular series of foie gras. He sent us his loose 
feathers, and kept his liver to himself. 

No ! Aaron's beard would not have come down to us in 
history, if he had but shown the Israelites what he could 
shave from his chin, day by day ; and Emerson would be un- 
recognizably diluted, we venture to say, if he were trickled 
through a daily " editorial." Newspapers have not been to 



208 THE RAG-BAG: 



blame that minds like Dewey's and Whipple's have been 
shelved — never, till recently through Lectures, pouring their 
wisdom into the great channels for the Many. Hiring such 
men for regular and compulsory intellectual labor is like hiring 
a sculptor to macadamize a* road with his statues — the broken- 
up Venuses and Apollos are not recognised in the smoothness 
they give, as pumice, to a highway. 

But, it was in destiny, after all, that this difficulty was to 
be got over. These best minds were to be made to wait till 
they had an idea, and that idea was to be given undiluted to 
the newspapers. Emerson was to be made to stay at home, 
with his cart-loads of Peruvian bark, till he could give all their 
strength in lecture-pills of quinine. The Press was to be left 
to run into an epidemic of virulent scribbling, and then (to 
take effect as an (( antidote,") these minds were to appear in 
pillule concentration. No Press could have hired it done. No 
Committee of Ways and Means could have contrived it. But, 
there goes the diseased newspaper, with the corrective pustule 
—the "report of last night's lecture" — inserted by the re- 
porter's quill, and (irrelevant, but professionally interesting) 
nothing to pay for the virus ! Por their vaccination of the 
daily papers- the Kine-pock-racy make no charge to the pa- 
tient ! 

The pride and the purse of the Lecturer are both enlisted, 
of course, in keeping him at home till he has such ideas as will 
draw an audience, and the Lecture-room thus works, unex- 
pectedly, as the intellectual sieve long wanted for pulpits and 
periodicals. His pride, also, forces him to wait till he has 
ideas that will not suffer by the stripping of their verbiage — 
(such as they get by newspaper reporting,) and the report 



THE "NEWSPAPER ANTIDOTE." 209 

atones for its freedom by being a trumpet of celebrity, no lec- 
tures being thus roughly honored except for their force and 
novelty. 

And this brings us to the wonderful part of the whole 
matter — the tvillingness of the neivspapers to he inoculated tcith 
their oiv/i " antidote /" As original contributions or editorials, 
these reports of lectures would " never do." The conservative 
views of Dewey, the probing truths of Emerson, the magnifi- 
cently bold unpopalarisms of Henry James — the newspapers 
that report them would as soon burn up their subscription 
books as advance such opinions on their own responsibility. — 
Duly published they are, however, unqualified and uncontra- 
dicted ; and so, by the very circulation of the disease itself, 
the healing principle is carried to the extremities of the land. 
The Lecture-room is the moral Jenner of our time — though, 
unlike the vaccine virus, the virtue of its " antidote," springs 
from the higher perfection, not from the disease, of the animal 
from whom it is taken. 

"We have but taken up the end of a thread that leads to a 
great deal of speculation. In the reader's hand we must leave 
it for the present. 



TOWN TOPICS 



The custom of purifying the people of Eome once a year, 
by publicly smoking them with sulphur and bitumen, gave the 
name to this most unpleasant of the months — Febrvary mean- 
ing the month of purification. Whether Servius Tullius, if he 
were recalled to life and appointed once more to office, in the 
place of Mayor Kingsland, would still consider the people in 
need of purification, we are not sure — but that the iveather 
should be got together and fumigated, every citizen feels. — 
Never was February more in need of tar and brimstone. The 
sloppiness of the sidewalks has got into the air, and, of mud, 
snow and water, every breath seems an un-escape-able mix- 
ture. Broadway looks like a procession of the unhappy. 
Lungs pick their way through the atmosphere as feet do 
through puddles — every man breathing on compulsion, and 

looking as if he wished there were India rubbers for the epi- 

(210) 



TOWN TOPICS. 211 



glottis, or that the streets could be swept, sis feet above the 
pavement. 

It would be unfriendly, by the way, not to mention, to the 
sufferers by so common an evil, a mechanical alleviation by 
which we have lately benefitted — no less a thing than what 
may be defined as a portable warm room, or a contrivance 
which enables you. to take a walk and carry that luxury along 
with you. It had never occurred to us, and may not have 
occurred to the reader, that, staying in the house for bad 
weather, was making the whole body suffer for the suscepti- 
bility of a very small portion of it. Nineteen-twentieths of the 
pores and muscles pleading for exercise, are proof against 
east winds — by means of gloves and overshoes, greatcoat and 
flannels. The mouth, only, refuses its consent to the general 
wish to " go out," not being protected, like the majority of 
the body's constituents, against exposure to the air. To this 
reasonable objection of the minority, backed by an influential 
cough, we were lately obliged to yield ; and it was not till 
we had been cut off from liberty and exercise for a fortnight, 
that we learned there was an invention by which the mouth's 
objection had been overcome. The " respirator" is a sort of 
veranda for the lips. It is a curved covering for the mouth, 
formed of several thicknesses of cambric wire, which allow 
sufficient air for respiration to pass, but, becoming heated 
with the breath, so temper it that it is like the air of a warm 
room. It also sifts the air, we understand, of its more humid 
and denser particles, admitting only the healthier portion. 
There is a curtain of thin merino falling outside the respira- 
tor, and when tied on, it looks simply like a black scarf worn 
over the mouth as a protection against the cold. The eminent 



212 THE RAG-BAG. 



physician who recommended it to us, said there was no per- 
suading consumptive ladies to wear it, " it was so unbecom- 
ing" — but it is no more so than any other wrapper, and, as 
most of our readers probably prefer life to " becomingness," 
we take the liberty to recommend it. The sensation is that 
of walking about with sudden and extraordinary indepen- 
dence of the weather — the warm air, in which you muffle up 
at home, seeming to envelope you till your return. 

The Temperance Reform has been the town's great excite- 
ment for a week or two past. The Voice and Pen, which 
now do the championship done by the " Sword and Pen" of 
old, have been fully aroused — the Apostles of the Reform 
wielding both eloquence and print, and the opponents coming 
to the encounter with the weapon of print only. With the 
monstrous amount of intemperate drinking in the six thousand 
bar-rooms of New York, the need of some reform is pressing 
enough — but it seems to us that the proposed means are a lit- 
tle too violent. The making it illegal to vend liquor in New 
York, would occasion an amount of lying, deceit and hypo- 
crisy, that would be, we should fear, a most unsafe addition 
to the deceits of trade, so commented on as an exponent of our 
national character; and we should fear also that the hostility 
to the reform might take the shape of a plausible resistance to 
oppression. God send the city some check to the facility of 
tippling, pray we — but lying, smuggling and swindling, are a 
moral intemperance quite as bad, in fact, and much more 
perpetuated in the character of the people. Here is one, out 
of scores of paragraphs, showing its effects in the State, of 
Maine : — 



TOWN TOPICS. 213 



" The most ingenious attempts are continually made to evade the 
operation of the famous Maine Liquor Law, and it requires the utmost 
vigilance on the part of the officers of justice to thwart these devices of 
the rum-loving transgressors. The last dodge we have heard of was 
the filling of a coffin with bottles of liquor, which was taken to Port- 
land. It was supposed, of course, that no one would think of exa- 
mining a coffin to find the ardent. However, the sharp eyes of the 
officers detected the fraud, and the liquor was confiscated. A wag, 
who saw the operation, remarked that, contrary to the usual course of 
things, the coffin in this case contained, not the body, but the spirit. 
A down-east paper states that a famous liquor dealer has put up in 
quart bottles a vast quantity of pure Holland gin. These bottles are 
labelled with the name of some wonderful medicine which is adver- 
tised in all the newspapers as a cure for all diseases. The knowing 
ones have only to be a little unwell, and procure a bottle of this fa- 
mous cure-all, in order to obtain what liquor they wish." 



TOWN TOPICS. 



The city — its surface, that is to say — has been in a frolic 
for a week. However the poor have shivered and the 
wretched mourned, and whatever care and trouble may 
have been also within the municipal limits — the snow has 
covered the streets, and fun has covered the snow. Why it 
is — why loads of passengers shout at each other in passing on 
runners, when they would not in passing on wheels — why an 
omnibus vehicle that carries a hundred is merry, and one that 
carries a dozen is glum — why people are jolly with being cold 
and uncomfortable in an open sleigh, and mute with being 
warm and comfortable in a covered carriage — why the driver 
and his passengers exchange jokes and are friends with good 
sleighing, and are forever quarrelling through the money-hole 
with good wheeling — are questions for philosophers who are, 
more than we, at leisure. Looking merely for the principle of 
human nature that must lie within all these contradictions, we 

214 



TOWN TOPICS. 215 



would suggest to " public men" to inquire whether it be vehi- 
cular aggregation, sound of sleigh-bells, common resistance of 
a slight enemy like the cold, or the mere getting along easy 
without greasing of axle-trees — what the principle is which so 
slices up the town like a watermelon, and makes each com- 
bined hundred of people as united and friendly as seeds and 
pulp held together by the same rind — and whether it could 
not be used to produce unanimity and good fellowship for 
something better. » 

The temporary annexation of Brooklyn to New- York, by 
ice, and the subsequent interruption of intercourse between the 
two, at the breaking up, have started several very lively ques- 
tions of convenience and fluctuation of property. A tunnel, 
like the Thames tunnel, is confidently talked of, to let people 
pass under the river, and an airy structure like the Menai 
Bridge, to let foot passengers walk over, though, to clear the 
sky-scrapers of our packets, this latter must be too high for 
probability. Any how, the East Eiver has fairly taken its 
position as " the enemy," and it remains to be seen only how 
Brooklyn will conquer it. The possibility that days might 
pass without communication between shore and shore, hits the 
Long Island suburb on a tender point. Most of the husbands 
resident there, do business in New- York, and are, already, by 
the delays and inconveniencies of the Ferry, separated from 
their families all day. The wives come over to do their shop- 
ping, and, losing their dinner, lunch in single blessedness at 
Taylor's. Few people, resident in either place, think of keeping 
up acquaintances in the other. Theatres, Lectures, Operas and 
Concerts, don't pay — with the getting home afterwards. It 
is a part of New- York which has only half the privileges of 



216 THE RAG BAG. 



the other inhabitants — husbands half the time, amusements 
not half as accessible, household gods with one leg in New- 
York and the other in Brooklyn. We state these evils because 
we think they are soon to be remedied. The genius of a 
nation that un-Siamesed two continents at the Isthmus, and 
invented steam and the telegraph, will not be much bothered 
to bring the ends of the two Fulton streets together. The 
large amount of dwelling-house property that lies, by air line, 
so close to the business heart of^New-York, is object enough, 
and the 50,000 semi-wives of Brooklyn who wish to be " made 
whole" and dine, and tea with their husbands, are impulse 
enough. England has done as wonderful things, and, to believe 
that there will soon be a subterranean street, from New-York to 
Brooklyn, one has only to read Thackeray's estimate of the 
comparative enterprise of the two countries : — 

" John Bull discussed the plan on foot, 
With slow irresolution, 
While Yankee Doodle went and put 
It into execution." 

The town topic which is most instructively interesting, at 
the present moment, is the official announcement of the start- 
ling increase of crime among the children of this city. Our 
readers will remember that we have often called attention to 
this lamentable branch of our national precocity. The Chief 
of Police has now made his second formal presentation of it, 
as a subject of alarm, to the city Government, and there are 
hopes that it will be taken actively in hand. As we said just 
now, however, this is but a branch of American precocity. 
There are interesting features in it quite worth turning over, 
as a new leaf of human change — perhaps of human progress. 



TOWN TOPICS. 217 



Americans are said to live six lives in one. American boys 
certainly have four or five years " the start" of the boys of 
any other country. A walk through the streets of New- York, 
by any good observer who has noticed children in England, is 
full of surprises. The wit, sagacity, and " grown-up" style of 
remarks among the jackets-and-trowsers of boys just let out of 
school, or amusing themselves on the sidewalk, are of a 
maturity that seems unnatural. Sytems of education, laws of 
responsibility, articles of indenture, etc., should recognize the 
difference between being " adult at sixteen or twenty-one." 
In Eussia they are only adult at twenty- six. It will not be 
long, we fear, before "juvenescence," so called, will be, in 
American life, an omitted superfluity. 

The two Operas have been trying one of two disputed ques- 
tions within the last week. The public, and especially the 
projectors of another Opera-House, were interested to know 
where lay the " custom" for the marketable article of Music. 
"Was it among the diamonds and full dress, or among the 
bonnets and shawls ? "Would it draw, by greater numbers, 
as much money at fifty cents as at a dollar-fifty ? Would 
" the Fashion" divide, and was there not a-half or two-thirds 
of them who would prefer to go to the Opera in demi-toilette ? 
Do the Well-offs, as a general thing, prefer to see and hear, 
or to see and be seen? Where would the beaux go, and 
would they rather see fifteen hundred in long sleeves than five 
hundred in short sleeves ? Then comes the substantial sedi- 
ment of all this effervescent portion of the population — the 
mere and abstract lovers of music, neither vulgar nor fashion- 
able, but unconsciously better than either — and where would 

they throw the casting- weight of their approbation? The 
10 



218 THE RAG-BAG. 



result, we believe, " has been rather in favor of Niblo's. 
Among the bonneted audience there has been a rather unex- 
pected preponderance of the acknowledged Fashion of the city, 
and there has been an alarming and quite unforeseen migra- 
tion of the large cravats and nascent mustaches from Astor- 
Place southward. This latter fact may be attributed partly 
to the better standing and lounging accommodations at Niblo's, 
but it is no less a feather in the cap of Bosio. ] We do not 
speak critically of the comparative merits of the artists at the 
different houses, partly because we have not time, and partly 
because it would be of little interest to our country readers ; 
but we may say that they are both admirable companies, and 
very much beyond what we have easy reasons for expecting. 



CITY NEWS AND CHAT. 



1852 has subsided from the first sparMe of pouring out, and 
the new bottle seems of quite as acceptable flavor as the last. 
The city is as gay as in 1851. The carriages with new trunks 
behind, tell of as many brides starting on their wedding trips, 
and the funerals go by, as little regarded. Most people are 
older — and the dating of letters reminds them of it— but they 
walk the streets as gaily, for aught we can see, as in the year 
when they were younger. "We do not believe there are many 
who would go back and live over the old year instead of 
this ! 

Society up-town shows the slackened appetite at home of 

those who have been abroad at a feast. The great number 

who went to Europe last year, and the greater number who 

have listened to the accounts of Ijpndon and Paris till they 

have become fastidious too, find New- York gayeties diminished 

of their brilliancies. It is a general remark how little interest 

(219) 



220 



THE KAG-BAG. 



is felt in balls and parties this year. The charming people who 
prefer to go to bed at eleven o'clock are startlingly numerous, 
and society seems to feel, as Carlyle says the country should 
do — that " its history is yet to begin." 

Of two removeable evils of Broadway, affecting two differ- 
ent classes, one has been attended to, by the city government. 
The carmen — four thousand two hundred and sixty men, with 
each a fine horse and a good deal of influence — have suffered 
from the smooth slipperiness of the Russ pavement, and a 
large appropriation has been made for grooving it. The 
" ladies and gentlemen" — an equally numerous class, with 
much less influence — have suffered greatly from the needless 
dust and rubbish of Broadway, but, for the removal of this 
evil there is no appropriation, nor any election wire to make 
one likely. 

The amount of well-dressed drunkenness, in the streets, on 
New Year's day, surprised every one. Between Grace and 
Trinity, at 4 P. M., we saw a crowd, almost without excep- 
tion presentable as to broadcloth and linen, yet every third 
man, at least, quite intoxicated. Either clothes have gone 
down in the scale of society, or drunkenness has gone up. 
Either rowdies are more respectably dressed, or respectability 
is more "addicted." A statistic may drive a nail into this. 
There are 5,000 licensed bar-rooms in New-York — one to 
every eighty inhabitants. Suppose, also, we add a picture of 
it, from the police report of New Year's day in the Tri- 
bune : — 

" In the Eleventh Ward an unusual number of men were arrested 
for drunkenness, creating a mob, exciting a riot, insulting females, and 
other offences to which men of low breeding, when intoxicated, are 



CITY NEWS AND CHAT. 221 

addicted. John Baltz was arrested by officer "Wells for entering, 
uninvited, the house of Phillip Herring, during his absence, and insult- 
ing his wife. In many of the upper Wards, something less than one 
hundred men were arrested for entering residences in which they 
never were before, and where they knew not a soul, and after eating 
and drinking without molestation to their hearts' content, maliciously 
breaking decanters, dishes, scattering the provisions about the prem- 
ises, and not content with that, in many instances breaking windows, 
doors, and behaving more like fiends than men. Those arrested were 
taken before Justice Mountfort to await an examination." 

People are getting walls around them. Two thousand 
four hundred buildings were erected in New-York last year, 
and three of them, in the Fifth Avenue, cost $50,000 each. 
There is probably no city in the world, however, where the 
outside of the house is so out of proportion to the living within. 
It is a statistic very much wanted — what should be the pro- 
portion of a man's rent to his year's marketing. We are 
encouraged to hope for this valuable particularity of knowledge, 
by seeing the statistical tables of Massachusetts. In that 
populous and wealthy State, it has been ascertained that there 
are but fourteen hundred and ninety-six persons who are worth 
fifty thousand dollars, and only three hundred and seventy-five 
who are benevolent ! 

New- York looks almost like a foreign city, at the present 
moment, from the multiplicity of Magyar hats with black fea- 
thers. The hats, without the feathers, were, at first, largely 
adopted by the men of fashion ; but they are now almost uni- 
versal, feathers and all, among the rowdies and youths at 
large. A feather being a thing of elegant leisure, looks very 
droll on a man who has the air of going an errand, or who 
looks away from home without his wheel-barrow. Still, there 



222 THE RAG-BAG; 



is, here and there, a naturally picturesque youth, even among 
the loafers, on whom the slouched rim and black plume sit 
like proper belongings. Nature tickets people for places they 
don't occupy. 

The two English officers who have been here, and who 
resigned their commissions in the army to follow Kossuth, are 
very much and very admiringly talked of. There were at the 
Union Hotel, for a few days, but have now gone to Washing- 
ton. It is understood that they are men of fortune, who go 
for glory only, and, certainly, it is a crusade for Liberty that 
is likely to tempt many a chivalric heart. The opportunity is 
fine, and Kossuth is a cozur de lion whom the modern paladins 
might well follow. 

The "World's .Fair, No. 2, is stated as positively to come 
off in New- York, next April, and the London papers contain 
definite directions for the conveying of goods, etc. The influx 
of intelligent foreigners which it is likely to bring, and their 
effect upon the opinions and manners of society, in so chame- 
leon a city, would not be the least important of its results. 
We do not see that our. half dozen locomotive citizens are 
getting up steam on the subject, however. 



PUBLIC ENTHUSIASMS. 



The way we " Public" sit still, and see ourself got up into 
an enthusiasm, is a phenomenon, in its way. It reminds us 
of a fat man whom we once saw deliver himself up to a mes- 
merizer ; and, wishing well to the operation with all his heart, 
endeavored so to sit, look, and dispose his legs and arms, that 
the " influence" might have an easy time in getting possession 
of him. We love to be " carried away." We love to be sub- 
jected to a new " complete furore" We love to have a 
new singer astonish, overwhelm and make a fortune out of us. 
And, of the indispensable preliminary process — the puff, the 
humbug, the appeal to popular enthusiasms and nationalities, 
the anecdotes, portraits and biographies — we are anxious 
watchers, encouragers and willing enchan-tees. 

The "■' preliminary process," however, is rather a compli- 
cated science. It cannot be easily or accidentally understood. 

Barnum, who is its Newton, should found a college to teach 

(223) 



224 THE RAG-BAG. 



it, and it should be a regular profession — in which, we may 
add, only Americans should take degrees ; for, foreigners, or 
those who have not lived long in the country, can have no 
inkling of its mysteries. That any celebrity, who has been 
so unwise as to bring her manager from the other side of the 
water, should drop him like a hot potato and pick up a cool 
Yankee in his place — is a bit of advice that it would be hospit- 
able to intrust to a perpetual committee, and have it delivered 
to every great artist on her landing at the Battery. 

Our country readers, (we are writing to them particulary, 
just now,) do not perhaps know what a complex body the 
New- York " Public" is, and how difficult it is to prepare all 
their varied sensibilities to be pleased — for instance with the 
same musical novelty. It requires as distinct and diverse 
management, as to get the same tune, at the same time, out 
of flute, trombone and trumpet, fife, fiddle and bass drum. 
The Press of course — that is to say, the gentlemen who do 
the musical criticisms for the different papers — are to be first 
propitiated. We presume there is some coffee-house, reading- 
room or artistic resort in London, where the names and 
addresses of these articulating organs of public opinion are 
duly registered and accessible. They are politely written to, 
and furnished with prophetic material, from the first moment 
that a " star" makes up her mind to culminate on America, 
and are; thenceforward, carefully kept advised of all her move- 
ments, parting triumphs, etc., etc., till she is fairly embarked 
and on her way to our appreciative shores. 

The next most important class, (but quite the most difficult) 
to please and propitiate, is that of the foreigners and musical 
dilettanti. Their peculiarity, as a class, is, that they know 



PUBLIC ENTHUSIASMS. 225 

music when they hear it. The quality of the new singer is 
understood by them at once — though it is by no means certain 
that a fair and generous opinion will at once be expressed. 
Personal and national prejudices may make a large difference, 
for or against, and it is upon this uncertain ground that the 
propitiation is to do its work. Their attendance, on the 
second night of the new star's performance, must be secured 
by any cost of diplomacy. The fullest house — unsprinkled 
with plump arms and sallow complexions, heavy moustaches, 
and black cravats without shirt-collars — is ominous ! " No 
foreigners there !" is the dispraise most significant, among 
opera-goers and town loungers. 

Then there is the moral and religious class, whose sensibilities 
are more simply reached. Admiration for the private char- 
acter of a new star, constitutes, with them, the main excellence 
of her singing, and this is awakened by anecdotes of her benev- 
olence, her amiable manners, her early struggles, her interest 
in benevolent Institutions and her habitual deportment on the 
Sabbath. The writers who do up this portion of a singer's 
popularity, have the easiest task, though they affect quite the 
most numerous and paying portion of the Public. 

To the fashionable class there is no very direct or reliable 
gate of humbug. Their patronage seems the result of a 
caprice to which there is no permanent handle. They like, or 
dislike, very unexpectedly — though, at them are aimed, with 
persevering suggestiveness, the carefully written accounts of 
the Queen's delight with the new singer, and her various com- 
pliments and presents from Duchesses, Countesses, foreign 
Princes, etc., etc. If we might hazard a remark that may be 
useful to a singer's man of business — the propitiation of this 



226 THE RAG-BAG. 



class, perhaps, may as well be left out altogether; partly 
because it offends the majority, with whom the class is 
unpopular, and partly because the fashionables, having an 
objection to those mammoth audiences (in which an individual 
toilette is lost like a drop in the ocean) are only likely to be 
drawn by curiosity, which needs no special propitiation. In 
Europe the first and most important step is to secure the pat- 
ronage of the Fashionable Few ; in this country, it is as, well, 
or better to let them alone. 

Then there are the Young Ladies' Schools — an immensely 
important portion of the Public, whose numerical and moral 
patronage of a " star" is very influential — and the propitiation 
of this class is through the Teachers and Trustees, and by 
visits, invitations, and other means easily understood. They 
have a public opinion of their own, however, these same 
Young Ladies — and on any question of popular taste, they 
are to be conciliated and appealed to. 

There are numerous smaller classes, or sub-divisions of 
classes, of which a proper Professor of Public Enthusiasm 
would understand the " soft soldering." There are individuals 
too, whose potential voices must be honeyed over — such as 
the Captains of the North Eiver steamboats, and the keepers 
of the different hotels. The " star" should bring letters of 
introduction, if possible, to the three ladies whose musical 
parties concentrate the three most considerable classes of 
lovers of music in New York. Still lesser influences are to 
be made sure of — but we have said enough to convey to our 
country readers some outline of what is to be worked upon 
in a " getting up." It is a job, complex and of kaleidoscopic 
changeableness • and it takes the genius which studied up the 



PUBLIC ENTHUSIASMS. 227 

bottom of the yacht America, the locks of Hobbs, and the 
seven-barrelled revolver, with one trigger — Yankee genius, in 
short — to do it with any tolerable continuousness of success. 

But — while we worship the " stars," and enjoy being made 
to believe that each is a whole world in itself — let us do it 
with our eyes open. Let us know the difference between a 
star and an asterisk. Let us not be laughed at on the other 
side of the water, for swallowing anything with a great name 
— anything about which they can contrive to make noise 
enough ! The English themselves are humbugged — oh how 
preciously ! — by musical wonders. Let us ask for the seal of 
Italy, Germany and France upon what we receive with our 
" five thousand" audiences — not be content with that of Lon- 
don only. Let us make America understood as the highest 
round on the ladder of artistic success. But — a word of ex- 
planation as to that : — 

Italy is the school of the musical artist, and she goes there 
for her strictest first trial and degree.' Paris is her compli- 
mentary stage, where her merits are confirmed by carefully 
measured applause, and where she receives her most accepta- 
ble personal homage as an artist. London is her glorification 
place, where the trumpets blow equally loud for all whom the 
managers have once undertaken, and where the newspapers 
— never trusted or believed on the spot — make reputations for 
anywhere at a distance. But, America is the place tvhere 
she makes the money. London pays well, but it is the mana- 
ger who pockets the surplus. Paris pays reasonably and 
moderately. Italy scarce pays enough for a livelihood — Ger- 
many hardly, more. But New York is, noiv, the artist's 
Golden Gate — the first place where she sings to as many as 



228 THE RAG-BAG. 



can be reached by her voice, where the Public can be " got 
up" by a manager of her own appointing, and where the glit- 
tering thousands are paid into her own admired and private 
pocket. 

Now, we say, let us exact something for the better price 
that we pay — let us have the worth of our money, as far as 
the " best article" can give it. And, not merely in the singer 
herself, let us demand the best of the market, but in the ac- 
companiments she brings. Jenny Lind respected our rights 
in this matter, by the quality of her leader, Benedict, of Bel- 
letti and Salvi, and by an orchestra upon which there was no 
sparing of cost and care. Let us have it understood in Europe 
— that fortunes are to be made in America, but only by the 
best artists and with their best prepared efforts and arrange- 
ments. "We cannot nationally pretend to the instinctive musi- 
cal genius of the Italians, to the nice culture and disciplined 
taste of the French, nor to the science and rapid enthusiasm 
of the Germans — but we are learning music with startling ra- 
pidity, and we are sharp enough to find ways of knowing what 
quality of singer it is that wants a fortune out of us, and whe- 
ther such other considerations have been attended to as shall 
make our enthusiasm rational and respectable. 



THE M0THEE8 OF THE BIBLE 



There are thefts to which we would add a gift — thieves to 
whom we wish so well that we say " take more." One is be- 
fore us — a beautiful New Year's book called " The Mothers 
of the Bible." These — the " only mothers of whom God has 
ever spoken," though "to millions upon millions he has given the 
care of children" are described, in this volume, by compila- 
tions from Scripture, with narrative comment by the authoress, 
and by poems upon the same class of themes, taken from dif- 
ferent authors. The instructive and touching pictures of the 
mothers who are the Sacred selection for portraiture, are thus 
brought to the familiar attention and study of parents and 
children, and a more useful subject for a volume that is to be 
a New Year's gift, could hardly have been thought of. In tho 
Introduction, by Bev. Dr. Stone, of Boston, he says : — " Two 
immediate objects seem to have influenced the author of the 
following pages, (Mrs. Ashton,) in preparing them for the 
press : one, to prompt her readers to a diligent and careful 
study of the Bible ; the other to quicken, in those who sus- 
tain the maternal relation, a sense of their responsibility, and 

(229) 



230 THE RAG-BAG. 






to inspire them with a more prayerful devotion to their solemn 
trust. To gather into one picture gallery, from the wide 
ranges and scattered sketches of inspiration, the portraitures 
of those in the elder ages who wrought blessing or cursing in 
this one relation ; to lead all, who may gaze with interest upon 
the faint copies, to seek for themselves the presence of the 
originals, and so to help the sanctification of the homes of our 
land, is the mission on which this little volume is sent forth." 
There are remarks of singular truthfulness and beauty scat- 
tered all through the prose narrative of this volume. They 
bespeak a tender and meditative nature in the writer. Of the 
poems, two are by one of the Editors of this paper, ( { The 
Shunamite,' and the * Widow of Nam,') and we only regret that 
another poem of our own, which we will presently quote, was 
not added to the " appropriation." It has been one of the 
most valued rewards of our life that we have been "set in 
gold" — the gold of the better memory of the world — by hav- 
ing a place given us in school-books and hymn-books, and by 
finding lines of our penning in the volumes which Sacred Lit- 
erature pronounces worthy. To those who take from us for 
such disposal, we say thankfully " take more." Of the poem 
which we herewith offer, in addition, we would simply remark 
that it was the versification of thoughts upon the probable 
daily reciprocities of duty and tenderness between Christ and 
his mother, in the Saviour's childhood — suggested by the 
reading of that exquisite narrative, the second chapter of Luke. 

chkist's mother. 

The boy was sad, yet fair 
The marvels of his birth were strange to hear — 
And, to regard his gentle face and speak 
Some fond word of him to his youthful mother 
Seemed kindness to the humbled Nazarenes 



THE MOTHERS OE THE BIBLE. 231 

"Who stopped at Mary's door : — but thoughtfully 

She listened to their praises of the child — 

So less than all she knew — and let her heart 

Look with its answer up to God. And day 

Followed on day, like any childhood's passing ; 

And silently sat Mary at her wheel, 

And watched the boy Messiah as she spun ; 

And — as a human child, unto his mother 

" Subject" the while — he did her low-yoiced bidding. 

Or gently came to lean upon her knee 

And ask her of the thoughts that in him stirred 

Dimly as yet, or with affection sweet, 

Tell murmuring of his weariness ; and there, 

All tearful-hearted, as a human mother 

Unutterably fond, while touched with awe — 

She paused, or with a tremulous hand spun on — 

The blessing that her lips instinctive gave, 

Asked of Him with an instant thought again. 

And when they " went up to Jerusalem, 

After the custom of the feast," and there 

" Fulfilled the days," and back to Nazareth 

"Went a day's journey, and sought Jesus there, 

Among their kinsfolk who had gone before, 

And found him not — the mother's heart of Mary 

"Well knew, that, wheresoever strayed the child, 

He could not go by angels unattended ; 

But, therefore, was her tenderness untroubled ? No. 

Tho' in her memory lay Gabriel's words, 

Brought her on wings at God's own-throne unfolded ; 

Though, in rapt speech, Anna the prophetess 

Had named him the Redeemer, newly born — 

And Simeon, forbidden to see death 

Till he had seen the Christ, had taken Him 

Into his arms, and prayed that he might now 

Depart in peace — though, of the song they sang, 

(That host, who, while the glory of the Lord 

Shone round about, told of his birth by night 

Unto the shepherds as they watched), she knew 

The burden was a work yet unfulfilled — 

To Him the Saviour given, and yet, to do. — 

Still was the child she loved gone from her now, 

And Mary " sought him sorrowing." 

And who 
" Kept all his sayings in her heart" but Mary % 
It was not with unnatural brightness beaming 
From the fair forehead of the boy, nor yet 
By revelations from his infant lips 
Too wondrous to deny, that Jesus first 
Gave out the dawn of the Messiah morn 
Breaking within his soul. "With wisdom only 



282 THE RAG BAG. 



Reached by the child's simplicity — so oft 
Truer than sage's lore — and outward pressed 
By the divinity half conscious now, 
He argued in the Temple, and amazed 
The elders, seated in their midst — but none, 
In these first teachings, saw the Son of God, 
And he went back to Nazareth — a child — 
Unsought by the disputing priests again, 
And his strange words forgotten but by Mary, 

Who " KEPT THEM IN HER HEART.' 

Oh, not alone 
In his pure teachings and in Calvary's wo, 
Lay the blest errand of the Saviour here. 
His walk through life's dark pathway blessed yet more. 
Distant from God so infinitely far 
Was human weakness, till He came to bear, 
With us, our weaknesses awhile, that fear 
Had heard Jehovah's voice in thunder only, 
And worshipped trembling. Heaven is nearer, now. 
At God's right hand sits One who was a child, 
Born as the humblest, and who here abode 
Till of our sorrows he had suffered all. 
They who now weep, remember that He wept. 
The tempted, the despised, the sorrowing, feel 
That Jesus, too, drauk of these cups of wo. 
And oh, if of our joys he tasted less — 
If all but one passed from his lips away — 
That one — a mother's love — by his partaking 
Is like a thread of heaven spun through our life, 
And we, in the untiring watch, the tears, 
The tenderness and fond trust of a mother, 
May feel a heavenly closeness unto God — 
For such, all human in its blest excess, 
Was Mary's love for Jesus. 

There is another passage of the Saviour's life — His own ten- 
derness for children, as shown in the days just preceding His 
last hour— which has always seemed to us almost the purest 
gem of the divine poetry of the Bible. " Then were there 
brought unto him little children, that he should put his hands 
on them and pray : and the disciples rebuked them. But Je- 
sus said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid 
them not; for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." From a 
poem on this subject, (which has, like the preceding one of 



THE MOTHERS OF THE BIBLE. 233 

our own, fallen out of notice,) we venture to make an extract, 
as one more gift to the literature of mother and child. The 
following were the concluding lines : 

The eventide 
Found Him among his questioners — the same ; 
Patient and meek as in the morning hour — 
And while the Scribes, with His mild answers foiled, 
Sat by and reasoned in their hearts, behold 
There was a stir in the close multitude, 
And voices pleaded to come nigh ; and, straight, 
The crowd divided, and a mother came, 
Holding her bahe before her, and on Christ 
Fixing her moist eyes steadfastly. He turned, 
Benignant, as she tremblingly came near ; 
And the sad earnestness His face had worn 
While He disputed with the crafty Scribes, 
"Was touched with the foreshadowing of a smile. 
And, lo ! another, and another still, 
Led by this sweet encouragement to come, 
Pressed where the first had made her trusting way ; 
And soon, a fair young company they stood — 
A band, who (by a lamp of love, new lit, 
And fed by oil of tenderness from Heaven — 
By recognition, instinct as the eye 
To know, 'mid clouds, the twinkle of a star — 
By mother's love) knew what must holiest he, 
And where to bring their children to be blest. 
And as Christ looked upon them, where they stood, 
And each would lay her infant in His arms, 
To see it there, and know that He had borne 
Her burden on His bosom, there rose up 
Some of the Twelve ; and, mindful of the night, 
And of the trials of the weary day, 
They came between, and bade them to depart, 
And trouble not the Master. Then did Christ, 
Reproving His disciples, call again 
The mothers they had turned from Him away ; 
And, leaning gently tow'rd them as they came, 
Tenderly took the babes unto His arms, 
And laid his hand upon their foreheads fair, 
And blest them, saying : Suffer them to come ; 
For, in my Father's kingdom, such are they. 
Whoso is humble as a little child, 
The same is greatest in the courts of heaven. 
Spotless is infancy, we fondly feel. 
Angels in heaven are like it, He hath said. 
Mothers have dreamed the smile upon the lips 



234 THE RAG-BAG. 



Of slumbering babes to be the memory 

Of a bright world they come from ; and that, here, 

'Mid the temptations of this fallen star, 

They 'bide the trial for a loftier sphere — 

Ever progressing. Fearfully, if so, 

Give we, to childhood, guidance for high heaven ! 

But, be this lofty vision as it may, 

Christ blessed them, here. And, oh ! if in the hour 

Of His first steps to Calvary, and 'mid 

The tempters, who, He knew, had thus begun 

The wrongs that were to lead Him to the cross ; 

If here, 'mid weariness and gathering wo, 

The heart of Christ turned meltingly to them, 

And, for a harsh word to these little ones, 

Though uttered but with sheltering care for Him, 

He spoke rebukingly to those He loved — 

If babes thus pure and priceless were to Christ — 

Holy, indeed, the trust to whom they're given ! 

Sacred are they ! 

Poetry is a garment of thought which, seems to be falling 
into disrespect, and likely therefore, though the disrespect may 
be partly owing to its frequency and vulgar familiarity, to be 
less employed for thought-wear, by those who might wear it 
best. It seems to us, however, that, though prose may dis- 
place its more skilful use on all subjects of mere human inter- 
est and passion, it is the natural garb of things holy. The 
mind instinctively puts on that robe to stand in the presence 
of God. The prayer, the psalm, the penitence, the pathos of 
religion, ask for some loftier poem of words. It would be a 
beautiful destiny of poetry if it were gradually set aside from 
comm on use, and consecrated like a sisterhood of language, 
to sacred service only. We should feel such a change to be 
a step of that Millennial separation and purification which 
must somehow take place, and which will probably be thus 
gradual and simple. 



LETTEE ON PASSING TOPICS. 



Highland Terrace, Oct. — . 
Dear. Morris : 

I enclose you a subject for a poem — a scarlet maple-leaf, 
whose fall from the tree has been noticed and mused over. It 
was detached by the gentlest of breezes, and fell into the road 
before me to-day, as I rode along the bank of the river. Glo- 
rious as it was in color, but likely to be trampled on by the 
first stray cattle that should come along, I turned back, (after 
carefully taking the side of the road that I might not injure it 
in passing,) dismounted, admired it more minutely, and pre- 
served it, as you see. Embalm it and its destiny in a song ! 
It will thus be made a sweet exception to the wilderness of 
bright leaves that dropped, that same hour, and are for- 
gotten. 

What a return of bright weather we are enjoying ! The 
equinox is like a darn in the heel of the departing Summer. 



236 TSE RAG-BAG. 



Once over that, you may find stitches as good as new, up to 
the garter of Winter. With the air so much more bracing, 
and the marvellous enhancement of rural beauty by the foliage 
of Autumn, the country is certainly much more enjoyable, 
this month — yet all our metropolitans are flown. My own 
latitude and longitude are in the hands of the doctors, it is 
true, and I am " prescribed" to keep a range of mountains 
between me and the seaboard ; but, with the best of health 
and liberty to choose, I should outstay the first changing of 
the leaf. The paled and be-dimmed fancy re-colors with it 
after the languor of summer. Nature rallies, from getting to 
look shabby with the sultriness and shorn harvest, the dust 
and " dry time." The world seems better worth making an 
effort to see more of. 

And how looks the town ? My life is so equally divide 
between horseback and dry toast that I hear little of th 
news. The papers seem mainly occupied with the death o: 
" The Iron Duke," and, truly, that event was a large " caving 
off" from the sand-hill of the present. The great commander 
filled probably a larger space in the eye of the world at large 
— and one, too, of a longer continued and better sustained 
respect and admiration — than any man living. Of the direct, 
the practical, the judicious and possible, His Grace was the 
wondrous master — never misled by imagination, of which he 
had not a ray. So utter was this wing-clipping but success 
ensuring and judgment-balancing deficiency, that, in the early- 
part of his career, his advice was asked on all practical ques- 
tions, by all in the army who had access to him. I once dined 
in company with an old Commissary-General, who dilated 
largely on this. He had served with him in various wars, and 



LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 237 

was accustomed to consult him on all his more important 
movements for the army's portage and provender — the Duke 
then an officer living mainly on his pay. He contrasted the 
regal state and splendor with which His Grace liyed, of late 
years, at the corner of Hyde Park, with the emphasis with 
which he had once heard him express his desire for a compa- 
ratively moderate income. It was a question whether it 
would be worth some man's while to take a certain contract 
of military supplies for five hundred a year. The future 
Duke, then a Lieutenant, was in his tent, undressing to go to 
bed. He listened to the Commissary's statement while pull- 
ing off his boots, and, as the sum was named, he threw one 
of them into the corner with great emphasis : — " Five hundred 

a year, man !" said he ; "I would go to for five hundred 

a year !" And this vivid appreciation of money seems to 
have been little dulled by gain and glory, for, as is well 
known, His Grace has been, for the last two or -three years, 
a persevering but unsuccessful suitor for the hand of London's 
[greatest heiress. 

The Duke looked very long-lived. He dressed young. His 
habitual blue frock-coat was a tight fit, well padded over the 
chest, and cut very short, his white pantaloons were nicely 
strapped over his instep, and the rim of his fashionable hat 
was so narrow as to furnish a perpetual feature to the carica- 
turist. He was seen on horseback, with a groom in livery 
at some distance behind him, every day, rain or shine, in the 
London " season," and where the crowd was not too great, 
':ie would bow courteously to all who raised their hats to him 
—looking, (but for that wonderful nose of authority and expe- 



238 



THE RAG-BAG, 



rience,) like some elegant club man of forty. I chanced to be 
walking in the Kensington Eoad when he passed, on his re- 
turn from a morning ride, five or six years ago, and I was 
quite impressed with the stylish youthfulness with which 
(then a veteran of almost eighty) he sat his horse. My daugh- 
ter, a child of four years, was with me, and, forgetting that 
great men can see when they are pointed at, I followed a sud- 
den impulse by trying to impress upon her memory that she 
had seen so great a celebrity. There was no one else near, 
and, as he passed, he gave the little starer a bow and a smile ; 
and it was by this habitually easy and ready courtesy, ex- 
tended to all who acknowledged their recognition of him, that 
the Duke won many a heart among the common people. 

Two of the dwellers on the border of Hyde Park — and cer- 
tainly the two most personally conspicuous men in the world, 
however they may otherwise have differed — Wellington and 
Count D'Orsay — have died within three months. They were 
the two horsemen who were daily the two most prominent 
sights of " Rotten Row" — the Duke wearing the narrowest 
rimmed hat, and D'Orsay the broadest-rimmed hat, in all Lon- 
don. But, under those two differing brims, and. with those 
two very different reputations, there was a quality common to 
both — a clear-headed good sense, relied upon, by their respec- 
tive circles, each like an oracle. As a proverbial umpire in • 
argument, a reference to decide questions of conduct and 
manners, a remarkably successful pacificator in quarrels, a 
manager of preliminaries for sports and ceremonies, and an 
adviser continually appealed to and trusted, Count D'Orsay 
led a busy life for others. He was to Fashion and the Clubs 



LETTER ON PASSING TOPICS. 239 

what Wellington was to the Queen and his country — best 
fridhd and counsellor most relied on. 

Superiority in trifles enrages the Public against a man, as 
the red flag enrages the bull — provoking a hostility with shut 
eyes. Nothing could well be more undiscriminating and ob- 
stinately and blindly untruthful than the common reputation 
of D'Orsay. His excessive personal beauty and that infallible 
and artistic taste in dress which he indulged, perhaps, too irre- 
spectively of general compliance and usage, acted like an insult 
on the community at large. Few weak-minded men ever for- 
gave D'Orsay, after seeing him pass. And there stopped the 
knowledge and appreciation of him. His complete good nature, 
his willing and ready sympathy, his hearty and frank good 
fellowship, and really unaffected simplicity and single-hearted- 
ness — qualities visible enough through an ill-made coat and an 
awkward demeanor and person — were invisible in him. He 
was more than a supremely handsome good fellow. He had 
genius as a painter and sculptor, which, considering the at- 
tractions out of doors, and a life so hostile to patient industry, 
he cultivated with wonderful success. D'Orsay was the bold- 
est horseman, the keenest sportsman, the best rifle-shot, 
and most skilful swordsman of his time — and it is hard to 
be all this and an artist besides. But canvass and marble 
show, now, that he found time to work, and had thoughts of 
beauty which he could imprison and perfect. 

The sovereign Public lets alone nine men, and busies 
itself with the private history of the tenth, and, by this arbi- 
trary decimation, Count D'Orsay has famously suffered. The 
truth as to his character and life would look very different 



240 THE RAG-BAG. 



from the common story, I believe. He is beyond minding, 
now, what is said of him, however, and to one battledore let 
the shuttlecock be left. 

I have scribbled my candle nearly out. Shall we say good 
night where we are, my dear Morris ? 

Yours truly. 



PORTRAITS OF THKEE NEW YORK BELLES. 



I 

FLORENCE HAY. 

There is a mystery about Florence Hay. The calm man- 
ner of polite lack of interest with which she goes into society, 
of late — the reluctance of her smiles, as if it were a matter of 
second thought — the fall, of at least two notes, in the habitual 
cadence of her voice — a something that is too proud to be 
religion, too decisive to be melancholy, and quite too un-capri- 
cious and regular to be love — form a problem which puzzles 
the relatives of the once " volatile coquette," as much as it 
does her admirers, female friends, rivals and general acquain- 
tances. The only guess which has even an air of probability, 
is in the speech of one of her unsuccessful adorers, (a young 
man who is a cypher where cyphers tell — added on to a fortune) 
and he says " she is waiting for an English lord !" 

Like most American girls, the fair Florence " came out" 
11 241 



242 THE RAG-BAG. 



several years too early, Finding nobody but herself astonished 
at her passing for a woman, she had easily put her diffidence 
away with her school satchel and pantalettes, and took to so- 
ciety like a bird to the air. Her beauty of face was of that 
choicest kind which Nature jealously puts under lock and key 
— making it visible, that is to say, only when the owner pleases. 
When she turned only her eyes upon you, she was plain — 
when she turned her mind upon you, she was beautiful. In 
her figure, however, (a department of beauty which unartistic 
people admire without knowing it, if at all,) there were, even 
at the age of sixteen, certain marks of a superior order of 
creature. Her large lungs were built as a home for enthusiasm, 
and her shoulders and neck held her head up as if they were 
proud of it. What there was in her motion that was singular 
and impressive, no casual observer could explain ; but it was 
what no dancing-master could teach — the deliberately exact 
obedience, of every pulse, nerve, and muscle, to the will of a 
proportionate nature. Her limbs neither anticipated a thought 
of movement, nor lagged behind it. The most sudden change 
of posture was followed by immediate repose — no particle of 
the system having been taken by surprise, and none, of course, 
requiring that adjustment with which most people put them- 
selves at their case after motion. 

From the generosity and sanguine hope which were predomi- 
nant qualities of her temperament, Florence began acquain- 
tance by believing the best, of every body. Of course she 
had treated most of the young men, in the society around her, 
better than they deserved, and, of course, had made very 
nearly the same number of conquests. As she discovered the 
deficiencies she had been too noble to anticipate, they naturally 



THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 243 

attributed to coquetry the crystal wall of indifference which 
viewlessly cut off their magnetism, and so she passed for a 
flirt — even with those good people, (oftenest short-sighted, 
alas !) who would have loved her for the very conduct they 
condemned, if they had looked a little deeper into the motive. 

You may anticipate manners — a girl of seventeen may as- 
sume the manners of a woman of twenty-five — but you cannot 
much hurry the growth of character. Pot your flower in 
porcelain, if you please, it will blow very much as it would in 
an earthen jar. At nineteen — after having been treated like 
" a responsible adult" for three years — Florence Hay first 
began to see society and life with mature perceptions, and to 
wonder how so much, that formed the burthen of the air 
around her, had been prevented from breathing immediately 
on her intuitive sense. The thick leaves that enclose the bud 
of youth so wisely guard its heart till the common air cannot 
taint nor cold winds chill it ! In the change of the worm, 
from its limited chrysalis to the free-winged and tireless but- 
terfly, there is scarce more entire, (and often, probably, scarce 
more sudden,) newness of impulse and novelty in the con- 
sciousness of life, than in the change that takes place at the ma- 
turing of the mind of a woman. It is a lifting of the eyelids 
of thought, as brief, almost, as the waking from a dream. 
-Though, as was said above, it is seldom anticipated, it is often 
retarded ; and sometimes, (at critical risk to happiness,) takes 
place years after marriage. 

With what has been said, and with a portion of a letter 
that will presently be given, the fair reader must be left to in- 
terpret, for herself, the mystery that there is about Florence 
Hay. The letter was written to a gentleman with whom she 



24A THE HAG BAG 



had formed the friendship of which superior women are capa- 
ble — (one in whom she had recognized a truthful appreciation 
and deference for what was most admirable in her sex, at the 
same time with a devotion so guardedly high-minded, that love 
could never enter, uninvited, by the door thrown open to it) 
— and, to him, she wrote more frankly, perhaps, as well as 
more gravely and philosophically, than she might have done 
to a woman. Dated at Newport, in July, some passing gossip 
occupied a page, and then the fair writer turned over the leaf, 
and a leaf of her heart with it — thus : — 

" In glancing once more at your letter, I see you hope I am finding 
some one to love. I would, willingly, for I feel as if there were 
thoughts of mine, here and there, that are worth somebody's having, 
but the right claimant certainly does not seem to be at Newport this 
year. Papa's wealth is my misfortune, for it brings me so many bid- 
ders for the little hand that is in'liis pocket, that I must seem more 
difficult and ungracious than my deservings justify ; but what can I do 
if the right man is the very last to come along 1 These beaux with 
moustachios and horses look very well, drive very well, and talk very 
well the first time or two that one sees them ; but, whose fault is it 
if one find oneself irrecoverably tired of them on the third day ? I 
really cannot accept, for the remainder of my life, the society of a man 
whose mind I have already seen the end of. 

" The truth is, that, like other sovereigns, (I am sovereign of my trifle 
of a heart, I believe,) I look into history and precedent for guidance 
and warning — history from now, back to the time I began to know 
anything, I mean. The marriages that have taken place in my time, 
in New- York, their 'rise, progress and remarkable events,' I have 
carefully studied in the humble hope to profit by such lessons as they 
inevitably teach. And what do you suppose strikes me as the one 
terrible monition and sad lesson deducible from them all 1 It will 
be no news to you, of course, for you have seen the world and the 



THREE NEW YOEK BELLES. 245 

heiresses therein ; but, to simple me, the usual and combined fate of 
these swimmers with bags of gold round their necks, looks startlingly 
alarming. I have not the courage to write down abruptly what it is. 
You may gather it from what eccentricities you see me commit, here- 
after, for the sake of avoiding it. I'll not drown with a ninny tied 
round my neck with my own purse, if it is to be helped. 

" No ! I am willing enough to marry, and think part wasted of every 
hour till I do, but I am on the look-out for what is commonly called 
'a bad match.' With every 'good match' that I have seen, in my 
circle of acquaintance, the gradual dwindle into insignificance and 
disappointment has begun with the return from the wedding journey. 
Money enough to make a man ' a good match' seems, in this country, 
somehow, to be the invariable purchase-money for an extinguisher to 
his mind ; so that l a good match' means a husband you get tired of, 
directly, yourself, and whose soul-less ostentation and inanity your 
friends put upon a pension of polite endurance, from the moment he 
ceases to be a prize in the lottery for daughters. Why is it not so in 
England ? Do rich people educate their sons improperly in this coun- 
try 1 Or, is ours a climate in which nothing but poverty favors the 
post-matrimonial vegetation of a man's intellect 1 

" Of course there must be plenty of men worthy of your humble ser- 
vant, my dear friend, but I have looked the fashionable society of 
New-York diligently through, and— must look farther for a husband 
to suit me. I want d poor man — one who has made up his mind for 
distinction at any rate, and for fortune if it come in his way ; but in 
whose ambition I can take an interest, and whose name and position, 
independent of all the caprices of mere fortune, will be matters I can 
continue to care for, and take more pride in, the longer I five. Bring 
me such a one, if you chance upon him. Papa will call it a ( bad 
match,' of course. I shall be thought, for one year — perhaps two or 
three — to have ' thrown myself away.' But, if it be a choice whether 
one's consequence and happiness wax or wane, from the wedding to 
the funeral, I would rather begin as the moon does. If you ever write 



046 THE RAG-BAG, 



my ' obituary notice,' please mention this very curious peculiarity of 
taste ! 

" Ah me ! there goes the hand with the first waltz ! I must dress 
for the ball. I fear I shall never send this letter of ' confessions,' 
if I venture to read it over, so I'll seal it while I dare. Good night. 
Yours gratefully and truly, 

" Florence." 



II. 

JOTA WARD. 

Nature intends that character shall not be too readily un- 
derstood. She wishes the choicest of her volumes to be passed 
over by the coarse and superficial reader, and to be first re- 
cognised by those who will read with reverent appreciation. 
The title-pages, therefore, though they contain, 'in some line 
or corner, the true imprint of what is within, are not legible 
to all. The common eye passes over the most priceless beauty 
of expression in human features, blind to all but the embellish- 
ments in which no meaning is hid. 

There were dimples in the corners of the beautiful mouth 
of Joya "Ward, which did not fulfil the usual mission of dim- 
ples — as a torch, turned downwards, becomes the most touch- 
ing symbol of death, when its common purpose makes it the 
emblem of life and brightness. If the face, in all other res- 
pects, had chanced to be a plain one, it is possible that the 
quality of character, to which these turned-down dimples were 
the key, might have been oftener recognised — but Joya Ward 



THREE NEW YORK EELLES. 247 

was what is usually described as " dashingly beautiful," be- 
sides. As seen by most persons, it was a countenance of 
absolute health, exuberant gayety, passionate intensity of phy- 
sical life,' and a frank, entire and unsuspicious womanliness. 
Perhaps those who saw her most would have added, that her 
features were expressive of more than the usual medium of 
intelligence. 

The bodily temperament, in fact, had taken the moulding of 
that face almost entirely to itself; and the soul, (summoned, 
probably, at the last moment, to give its voice in the matter,) 
had carelessly touched the two corners of the mouth, covertly 
compressing, into the downward curve which this gave to two 
exquisite dimples, the whole outer expression of the true supe- 
riority within. As was said above, few were likely to read, 
at all, this talismanic betrayal of the hidden but overruling 
tenant of that fair temple ; and, in her mirthful moods, when 
the mouth was busy with its brilliant caprices of expression, 
the soul's timid sentinel was pressed into the service of the 
senses, and even the most spiritual observer might have looked 
upon that flesh and blood monopoly of beauty, with no recog- 
nition of the true character of Joya Ward. 

"We have space only to touch upon a point or two of what 
it would take a common-sized novel to delineate fully — (and 
we have a suspicion, by-the-way, that !( the age" is getting 
too " fast" for anything but outlines) — so tho reader is request- 
ed to be busy with the " filling up," while only an indication 
of which way ran the current of life of which the first springs 
and impulses have been hinted at thus hastily. 

Ladies should be careful how they are seen listening to 
music. There is no such unmasker as a sweet air played to a 



248 THE RAG-BAG. 



silent company. The heart is touched — the attention of others 
is supposed to be absorbed by the player — and the face for- 
gets itself, and lets the soul — or the want of it — be seen in its 
unconscious repose. Smith Lyle was one of those for whom 
Nature writes her best books. A single glimpse of the 
turned down and dimpled corners of the mouth of Joya 
"Ward, as she sat listening to a song, staked his whole happi- 
ness upon the venture of reading all that was bound up under 
that imprint ; and she was soon Mrs. Smith Lyle — a lady 
whom you know, perhaps, in society, dear reader, or, if you 
do not, you may record it as one of those losses which Hea- 
ven (better late than never) is bound to make up to us. 

The peremptory command, " Know thyself !" implies, as a 
" foregone conclusion," the most universal kind of human ig- 
norance. Mrs. Smith Lyle had married, " she scarce knew 
why." Up to that time, she was " in communication," as the 
knockers say, with her senses mainly ; and when her soul 
came forward, and decided, as it was sure to do, any matter 
of moment, she had no time to recognise " the speaker" before 
her senses had " resumed the floor." The result was, that, 
instincts to the contrary notwithstanding, she had very much 
the opinion of herself that most people had of her ; and she 
was half inclined, for th(T first year after her marriage, to 
agree with most people, that a more inharmonious match — 
one of more opposite-minded and respectively inappreciative 
people — than herself and Mr. Smith Lyle, could hardly have 
been selected, even for a psychological experiment of the 
" crossing of races." 

Intense lover as her husband was, it confused her to be ad- 
mired only for what had never won admiration before. She 



THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 249 

was not very sure that the change was agreeable. The habit 
of conquest had given a value to the visible weapons of beau- 
ty, and she could not reconcile herself, at once, to the greater 
effectiveness of unseen qualities in which she had hitherto 
taken no pride — of which, indeed, she scarce knew the posses- 
sion, or existence. Her soul, like a priceless pearl, lay at the 
ebb of her animal spirits, and it was only when the tide of life 
was down — when she was saddest and least hopeful or self- 
believing — that she shone brightest in the sunlight of her 
husband's affections. How profoundly truthful were her 
calm thoughts, at those hours — how unassuming and gentle 
was her soft-eyed sadness — how imaginative and lofty the 
point from which she saw, and yet how sweet the humility 
and tenderness with which she judged — how softly clouded 
was the music of her tone, and how subserviently and yet 
effectively her excessive beauty became an enhancement of all 
this — are light and shade, dear reader, which your own fancy 
(we are doing this portrait, you know, between us) will please 
trouble itself to put in where they belong. 

What would have become of Mrs. Smith Lyle, had she 
married an inappreciative husband — one who had loved her 
for her beauty only, and who lived in ignorance of the soul- 
pearl of which that beauty was the shell — can be guessed 
from the more or less of approximation to the same problem 
which has fallen under the observation of most of us. The 
grazing of the herd over the gold mine — blind to all but what 
ministers to the immediate appetite — is the state of many do- 
mestic Californias, from which, by the way, the first discoverer 
of the true value does not alwa3 7 s coin happiness ! 

Years have elapsed since we first made this beautiful char- 



250 THE RAG-BAG. 



acter a study — for, of the deathless travellers whom Time 
takes along with us, even-paced, this is one whom we shall 
remember to have been on this planet of Earth while we were 
here, and whom we shall hope to meet and re-study further 
on — but, whenever we see the fair Joya, whom we first noted, 
long ago, at her " coming-out ball," it is with new admiration 
of the ceaselessly progressive development of that inner char- 
acter, which could then be read faintly but truly — the charac- 
ter of which those turned down dimples, with their momentary 
but inexpressible sadness, were the covert yet unmistakable 
index. She is beautiful — very beautiful still. But, by life's 
trying lessons, and by the insisting appreciativeness of her 
husband's admiration, her inner qualities have gained the as- 
cendancy even in the expression of her face ; and her manners 
are touched with a subdued earnestness and a winning and 
truthful simplicity, that few would have foreseen who knew 
her only as a belle. She is one of the few who grow lovelier 
as others fade — the bloom of her next life flowering back upon 
this, as the fruit-fall of one season in the tropics is overlapped 
by the blossoms of another. 



III. 

MISS TRAFFOED. 

To sketch truly the lady whose name we have written 
above, we must first generalize a little upon the times of 
which her mind is a part : — 

Summer and winter are to be done away with, astronomers 
say, and eternal Spring is to republicanize the weather, and 



THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 251 

bring the extremes of heat and cold to a temperate level. The 
same tendency is visible, moralists say, in the intellectual 
barometry ; and it is already more difficult to be great, and 
less necessary to be nothing, than it used to be. Every one 
knows that there is a much more general distribution of 
property than of old ; and a distinguished traveller recently 
described America, which is the advance-guard in the march 
of equality, as " a country where there is nobody very happy, 
and nobody very wretched." New-York, (as the largest 
metropolis should be,) is still a step beyond even the other 
cities of the United States — having no indisputable highest 
class, and equally " good society" wherever there are means 
to provide the usual external belongings. 

The point of this equalising progress which has a bearing 
upon our sketch, however, is the gradual advance of woman 
toward the masculine 'privilege of influencing many. That 
man should accumulate power, and control as many human 
human beings as he can, but that woman should live and die for 
one and his family, would have been been considered " a plat- 
form" ten years ago. That the general sentiment has progres- 
sively modified, on this point, however, is visible in many 
changes and movements. The late formidable convention for 
Women's Eights, and the petition just presented to Congress, 
praying for full equality of sexes as to voting and holding 
office, are the larger demonstrations — claiming more, to cover 
the less that is really expected. The universal movement for 
the better pay of female industry — the often-recurring call for 
the substitution of women for male clerks, and for giving them 
the preference in all in-door and easy occupations — the estab- 
lishment of a Female Medical College, and reception^of female 



252 THE RAG-BAG. 



students in medical schools — Mrs. Farnham's emigration to 
California with a company of female farmers — women work- 
ing in men's dress at the mines, and fighting as soldiers in the 
late struggles for liberty in Europe — Miss Beecher's summary 
and novel extinguishment of a young divine for foppish trifling 
with a lady's character and affections — Princess Belgioso's 
dip into war and journalism — the female agriculturist who 
farms- it in man's attire, and is a " distinguished citizen," near 
Brussels — Jenny Lind's single-handed build and occupancy of 
a throne, to which those of Semiramis and Cleopatra were but 
baubles — these, and many corroborative indications in private 
life, which will have occurred to the reader, are lesser signs, 
we think, of the same impulse — a changed undercurrent of 
sentiment as to the unexceptional singlitude and retiraey of 
woman. 

Miss Traflbrd, (whose raft of life, as the lumbermen on 
the Susquehannah would say, was " embarked upon this 
fresh") is what may be particularised, in our land of slight 
people, as an entire beauty. If you have ever seen a ship 
come up the bay on a fair wind, and make her way, with 
every sail filled, through the wilderness of bare-masted vessels 
at anchor, you may have an idea of the sudden impoverish- 
ment of the figures of most of the other belles, by Miss Traf- 
ford's entrance into a ball-room. With her full outlines, her 
symmetrical and easy motion, and her straight back, she 
would always produce the impression, upon a nautical eye, 
of a vessel with every sail set, coming up before the wind. 
A painter, we are quite sure, would sketch her with a hand- 
kerchief dropped at her feet, from a vague instinct that there 



THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 253 

could scarce be a complete likeness of her without something 
like foam at the prow. 

In Miss Trafford's expression and manners there is the 
same " spread of canvas." She has not a reef in her large 
blue eye, nor in the shake of her hand, nor in the frank smile 
that lets you look at her dazzling teeth as if there were 
plenty more like them. She walks straight to whomever she 
wishes to speak to, and gives her absolute and complete atten- 
tion to those who talk to her. A bird in the wilderness is 
not more unstartled by the stirring leaves, than is her counte- 
nance or motion by the looks or movements of those about 
her. If it were not from the evident fearlessness of complete 
honesty, this somewhat independent unconsciousness, of other 
people's effects of presence, might offend : but, by the circle 
in which she lives, it is as uncriticised as the same quality in 
the summer wind. 

Miss Trafford has friendships with as many of the superior 
men of her acquaintance as she has time to exchange thoughts 
with. A man of any intellectual mark gives her his confi- 
dence at once. Her sympathy is so unselfish and complete, 
where she accepts this trust of friendship, that the devotion to 
her, by all those who know her intimately, has a character 
almost of romance. Yet, a lover, Miss Trafford, apparently, 
never had. Love is first inspired by magnetism that has a 
locked door, but there is nothing in her manner, look, or 
heart apparently, on which she ever turned a key. It is what 
women withhold — in the coloring of a thought, or the tone of 
a voice, the glance of an eye, or the pressure of a hand — 
which ties the bandage over the first sentiment and turns it 
into a Cupid ; but, in Miss Trafford's thought, tone, glance 



254: THE RAG-BAG. 



and greeting, there is nothing withheld, and Cupid's bandage, 
of course, (without which he can do nothing,) is a superfluity 
uncalled for. 

Looking upon love, probably, as she might upon a prevail- 
ing influenza — and waiting till she catches it — Miss Traf- 
ford, meantime, however, finds a tenant in her heart. For 
want of a better name we will call it ambition. She wants 
a field for the exercise of energies that make her restless. 
Her conscious control over other minds — her power of 
influencing many — is uneasy with the comparative inaction 
which her sex imposes upon her. In her confidential inter- 
course with men of mind, she has measured her scope and her 
mental magnetism, and she longs to play the part for which 
such faculties are the required gifts — to unfold her wings, 
since she has them, and try the forbidden air of Influence, 
since it seems to be her element. With a woman's destiny to 
stir but one or none, she longs to stir a§ many, and with as 
high a career and purpose, as a man. 

Miss TrafFord sometimes advances theoretical views on this 
subject, the carrying out of which would Very much astonish 
her friends and relatives. She has looked with a clear busi- 
ness eye at the different means by which superior men contrive 
to live lives worthy of a bigger planet, here on this little one. 
In Literature, however, she thinks that the amount of petti- 
coat competition has quite smothered the chance of petticoat 
success. War, Law, Politics, and the Pulpit, men have a 
monopoly of. The Press is a pillory which is not fit for a 
lady — scarcely for a gentleman. Music and painting require 
accidental endowments. The Stage, which John Quincy 
Adams always defended, as one of the most important and 






THREE NEW YORK BELLES. 255 

influential of public professions, is the only remaining field ; 
and to this, (we conjecture, from hearing her quote his 
remark, and speculate on what the stage might be brought to, 
as an elevator of standards of action,) Miss Trafford is 
secretly turning her ambition. The tendency of the age, 
(which we began by describing) is doubtless aiding this, by 
weakening the usual trammels of necessity for unexceptional 
female obscurity. She has high notions of Jenny-Lind-ifying 
§ the stage, and she is quite too clear-sighted a woman not to 
see that her beauty and personal air would in some degree 
help to strengthen her power, as the voice serves the great 
purposes of the Nightingale of Sweden. 

With no certainty that Miss Trafford confesses, even to 
herself, the idea of adopting the stage as a sphere for her pre- 
dominance of talent and energy, her attention and bent of 
mind pertinaciously look that way ; and we are very sure that 
she feels willing, since she is an exception to the common 
endowments of her sex, that hers should be an exception to 
their common lot. We hope, however, that, in case our con- 
jecture is true, she will first weigh well what she relinquishes, 
and, as well, what she is to encounter. 



NEW-YOEK SOCIETY, 



New- York has a peculiarity, which distinguishes it, we be- 
lieve, from every other city in the world. It has no recognised 
highest class. Of those who "keep carriages," who "live 
above Bleecker," who " are subscribers to the Opera," who 
" go to Grace Church," who " have a town house and country 
house," or who " give balls and dinners," there is no " exclu- 
sive circle," and no family lohose acquaintance is of any valve 
beyond the pleasure it gives. There is not a man or woman in 
New- York, we mean, whom it is " necessary to know," to be 
" fashionable." Not only this, but there seems to be no ap- 
proximation to an " exclusive set," for it is not even a matter 
of curiosity who people's acquaintances are, and nobody could 
definitely tell to what circle any one positively belongs. We 
have alluded before to this peculiarity of New- York, and we 
once defined the vagueness of the classes out of which an aris- 

(256) 



NEW-YORK SOCIETY. 257 



tocracy would be formed, if at all, by a phrase which has since 
become common — " the Upper Ten Thousand." 

But, we go for recognising blessings while we have them, 
and it may possibly suggest useful guiding principles of society, 
to our distant readers, if we explain what is the particular ad- 
vantage of this unprecedented republic of fashion — what 
there is in it that makes this one city of the world (where there 
is no occasion to make an acquaintance, or keep one, unless 
you like,) the most habitable spot within the limits of civili- 
zation. 

Differently constituted people require different circles of 
friends. Hardly any two persons (with any definite char- 
acter, that is to say,) would find the same pleasure in the same 
society. No " Procrustes' bed" is more unreasonable, than 
the insisting that all should give preference to the same models, 
and that all should acknowledge the same superiorities. Yet 
this is the case wherever there is an indisputable and acknow- 
ledged " set" of supreme fashionables. It is the case in Bos- 
ton — the case in Philadelphia — the case in London, Paris, 
Berlin, Munich and Vienna. In all these places, and in every 
other city of America and Europe, there are certain houses 
where you must visit, to be " fashionable," and certain people 
whom you must have at your parties if you expect them at all 
" to go down" as gayeties of" the best society." That there 
are no such indispensable houses to visit at, and no such indis- 
pensable people to know, in this city of an " Upper Ten Thou- 
sand," every one who knows anything of its society will at 
once acknowledge — and acknowledge! too, as a very consider- 
able " let up" from the slavery of " paying court" to leaders 
of fashion whether you like them or no. 



258 



THE RAG-BAG. 



But this is only a negative advantage. There is, in this 
state of society, a positive advantage which is much more lm 
portant, and which elevates the whole matter into a question 
of the real dignity and moral value of a life. Will the reader 
allow us to play " father confessor," and address ourself for a 
moment to his or her inner consciousness of a life that has 
purposes to be fulfilled ? 

No half hour of conversation is without its effect in narrow- 
ing or expanding the character. Uncongenial society demeans 
the natural independence, dulls the natural graces of the mind, 
and hurts the frank honesty of the heart ; while, in genial and 
sympathetic society, all that is worthiest is nurtured, and all 
that is admirable takes new courage and brightness from ap- 
pearing to the best advantage. These are truisms. All per- 
sons know them — but, how different the world would be, if 
all persons made them, as they should do, the only basis upon 
which to select and cherish a circle of acquaintance ! Those 
you see intimately — those with whom you constantly exchange 
thoughts and politenesses — those whose conduct you judge 
of, and, by whose judgment of your own conduct, you are 
.influenced in turn — those to whom you introduce friends, and 
to whom you intrust wife, sisters, or children — should belong 
to your visiting circle by some reliable affinity, and be bound 
to it by those sympathies and similarities of condition without 
which there can be neither sincerity, safety, nor enjoyment, in 
social life. The best state of society, of course, is that in 
which there is the greatest freedom to select acquaintances — 
that is to say, according to instinctive liking and similarity of 
taste and circumstances — and where one neither gives offence 
nor loses position by letting all others alone. 



NEW-YOEK SOCIETY. 259 

The advantage which we claim for New- York over other 
cities, therefore, will be understood. There is no circle, in it, 
that can either give fashion , or take it aivay. Among its 600,000 
inhabitants, there are people enough of every kind, however, 
and a hundred acquaintances may be picked from a hundred 
different neighborhoods, or circles, or congregations, without 
the selection's being even known to the unselected remainder 
of the neighborhood, circle, or congregation. In other cities 
you must take people " in sets" — in New- York you can take 
them singly. In other cities Fashion chooses your acquain- 
tances for you — in New -York you choose them for yourself. 
In other cities there are those you are not at liberty to dislike, 
whom you must pay court to, and in fear of whom you do 
everything — in New- York, you may dislike whom you please, 
pay court to nobody, and act in fear of no set or circle. In 
other cities the chances are against your having such a round 
of acquaintance as you could feel most kindly to, and among 
whom your mind would improve and your heart expand — in 
New- York, it is entirely your own fault if your acquaintances 
are not of the most congenial and desirable character. New- 
York, therefore, is not only the pleasantest, but the most im-, 
proving of cities — for those to live in, we mean to say, who are 
refined and rational, but who, at the same time prefer, (as 
some very good people do prefer), to see no arbitrarily aristo- 
cratic society from which they seem to be excluded. 



AUTOGRAPHS 



It amuses, generally, we "believe, to know how great 

people do common-place things ; and perhaps the readers of 
the Home Journal may be interested to know the exact words 
in which Louis Napoleon answered an invitation to dine, nine- 
teen years ago ! The note, which was preserved as an 
autograph of one of the Bonaparte family, has the additional 
interest that it contains a touch of his skill at paying a com- 
pliment ! Its main object is expressed in French, in the usual 
ceremonious form ; but there is a postscript in English, which 
shows that the Rex-President, though a bachelor, was once 
capable of sentiment ! His inseparable friend, who lodged 
with him in London, at that time, was the Count Aure, and 
they were usually invited together, as in the note to which 
the following is his response : — 

"Le Prince Louis Napoleon et le Comte Aure sont bien touches de 

l'amabilite de Madame , mais ils ne pourront pas se rendre a 

son invitation, malgre tout le desir qu'ils en auraient. Ils sont passes 

(260) 



AUTOGRAPHS. £61 



hier chea M. et Madame — , pour les remercier de leur engage- 
ment pour le diner de 12 Mars, auquel ils ne manqueront pas de se 
rendre. 

"Le 2 Mars, 1833. 

" (An hour may be long, but never tedious in your company.") 

We chance to be able to show how a usurper and a poet 
do the very same thing — an answer, by Thomas Campbell, to 
an invitation to dine, ivith the same lady, being also among 
our autographs. He, too, adds a postscript. Thus it runs : — 

" My Dear Madam : — 

" I will do myself the pleasure of dining with you on Tuesday the 
23d. I would not make the exception which I thus make to my reso- 
lution, not to dine out till the Life of Sir Tho's [Lawrence] is finished, 

to anybody in the world except Mr. and Mrs. . You will see by 

the other leaf what I am reduced to. With best respects to Mr. , 

" Yours very truly, T. Campbell. 

K P. S. — Don't think I come under the spell of your grand folks. I 
now care nothing about ' lovely ladies of ambassadors,' but wish to 
keep my old friends. T. 0." 



A LITTLE GOSSIP 



WITH OUK LADY SUBSCEIBEES ONLY, 



To the ladies, in greater or less number, of whom this poor 
pen is the constant and laborious servant, we have a thought 
or two to offer. It is our more especial service, for the lady 
readers of this paper, first, to keep them informed of all news 
that has a bearing upon their own tastes, comparative condi- 
tion as to the women of other countries, and improvement of 
condition here at home ; and, second, to map out the tenden- 
cies shown by these mile-stones of events, and draw what 
generalizing inferences we may, as to the progress for their 
advantage. The slur that has lately been given us by the 
English Press, as to our being the " freest people on earth," 
(viz., that we are " quite the freest — with each other's reputa- 
tions !") and some recent activity of this kind of freedom 

(262) 



A LITTLE GOSSIP. 263 

which our readers may have noticed, are the openings for a 
little gossip, in this way, on the subject of slander. We, last 
week, addressed a special homily to our gentlemen readers, on 
the propriety of making it a national pride to exempt ladies 
from this republican evil. We now wish to chat a moment 
with the ladies themselves, as to their special liability to slan- 
der, from certain peculiarities of education and social position, 
and as to the advisability of combining to arm against it, 
Pray, do not call us tedious, dear lady, before remembering 
that you, or those you love, are as liable to this danger as 
any for whom we hope to suggest defences. The innocence 
that feels no risk and is taught no caution, is more vulnerable 
than guilt, and oftener assailed. 

It is perhaps time that the difference between notions of 
propriety, here and in other countries, should be a little mod- 
ified. In England, where an unmarried girl cannot walk out 
alone with a male acquaintance, or, in France, where she is 
not trusted alone even with her brother', the complete freedom 
of an American girl, as to her movements with " beaux," or 
times and places of seeing them, w T ould be looked upon as at 
least a foolish putting of weapons into the hands of the mali- 
cious. In actual consequences, this liberty has, hitherto, 
worked better than was predicted. The wives and mothers 
of our country are allowed to be more virtuous than those of 
countries where girlhood is more guarded. But it is from 
some of the accompaniments of this freedom — suitable and safe 
enough in America as it was, but not as it is beginning to be 
— that the necessity for increased caution arises. 

With the floods of immigration, the great increase of foreign 



2g4 THE RAG-BAG: 



travellers, and the insensible but rapid importation of Euro- 
pean ideas and standards, many of the ordinary habits of our 
ladies are becoming liable to dangerous misrepresentation. It 
is quite enough to say, that, by the prevailing notions among 
respectable classes, a young girl may go where she pleases 
with any young man of her acquaintance, meet him anywhere 
for a walk, drive with him or write to him — giving little or no 
explanation to friend or parent. Such habits, and the circum- 
stances that grow innocently and naturally out of them, give 
ample material for defamation — much more indeed than is 
needed by the maker and sustainer of a false accusation, to 
prove it sufficiently for the lady's ruin. Mothers who keep 
stricter guard are laughed at, to this day, for foreign affec- 
tation, and sneered at for thinking their daughters " better 
than other people's" — but upon what young lady, except one 
thus watched, could not the " appearances" be proved which, 
with but little exaggeration and perversion, would be fatal 
to her good name ? 

American young ladies have one other vulnerable point. 
While the boys of our country are educated over-practically, 
the girls are educated over-sentimentally. The universality' 
of cheap and trashy novels impairs both the relish, and the 
right appreciation of the companionship which falls in their 
way ; and no one of them, for some brief period, feels herself 
to be fitly or properly mated. Hence a stage of girlhood, 
which is a struggle to build a romance upon common-place 
intercourse ; and hence, too, an almost universal habit of 
using exaggerated language, and describing very simple mat- 
ters with very intensified and incorrect phraseology. A mis- 



A LITTLE GOSSIP. 335 

carried billet-doux is mourned over as " utter ruin ;" a fancy 
admiration, that has brought about a scolding, is discoursed 
upon as the " dark error fatal to her peace forever ;" a mis- 
laid rose-bud is deplored as the " one loss on earth that 
could never be restored." What school-girl's letters are not 
likely to be full of such dreamy and unconscious mis-applica- 
tions of the language of novels ? The first true and womanly 
affection that enters her heart inspires her with an apprecia- 
tion of sincere words; and, with real love, she writes, for 
the first time, simply and truly. But this does not erase 
the wild flights of fancy that she has penned and distributed 
around with the confiding unmeaningness of a child, and a 
villain who is disposed to injure her has only to get possession 
of, and expose them. 

There is little need of dwelling on these obvious dangers to 
female reputation in America. Every reader who has fol- 
lowed us thus far, has mentally seen ten risks to every one 
we have mentioned. Immediate change in national habits 
and manners never takes place, however, and the confiding 
and careless intercourse of our young ladies with young gen- 
tlemen, and their thoughtless expressions of what they do 
not feel nor understand, will continue yet a while. We call 
attention to it, not with a very strong hope of expediting 
a more cautious and European stage of manners, but to 
suggest a correction in public opinion, meantime. The 
true state of education and custom should be remembered, 
when accusations are made against American women. Ladies, 
in this country, (and not gentlemen,) are the court by which 
female reputation is tried and judged, and it rests with them- 
selves to defend and sustain each other. Were women to 
12 



266 TH 2 HAG-BAG. 



combine — in circles, op- societies, churches or clubs — to 
protect innocence by at hast testing accusation before delivering 
over the accused to neglect and infamy, there would be much 
more done at which Truth and Justice would rejoice, not to 
say Charity and Mercy. 



NATUEE INTEODTTCED INTO SOCIETY. 



Three new introductions have taken place in New- 
York Society, within the past week. Moonlight, a Fountain, 
and a Summer-Garden, were three open air guests, present at 
a crowded ball at the corner of Eifth Avenue and Fifteenth 
Street. The effect was sufficiently novel, as well as beautiful, 
to excuse being recorded in a public journal, for the informa- 
tion of those of our readers who are beyond the reach of the 
circle of chit-chat in which it is the principal topic. 

The house, in which these out-door luxuries are combined 
with every possible ingenuity of modern sumptuousness and 
refinement, has not been long completed, and this was the first 
general entertainment given within its walls. About six hun- 
dred persons were present. The usual festivities of a ball 
need not be described, of course — but the guests who strayed 
away from the magnificent principal apartments, made the 

(267) 



268 



THE RAG-BAG. 



round of a suite of smaller rooms, in which the contrivances of 
taste and elegance, are probably unsurpassed, even by royal 
palaces abroad. The central room of this suite is the bed- 
room of the lady of the house, and, after the F rench fashion, 
this exceeded in luxury even the principal apartments of 
reception and ceremony. To the surprise and delight of those 
who came with dazzled eyes from the glittering ball-rooms, 
there was no light in this nest of beauty except a soft demi- 
jour, of the strength of the light of a full Venetian moon. 
The glance, which turned from the bed inlaid with pearl, and 
draped with satin and lace, rested on an arched roof of glass, 
framed in arabesque tracery-work, and through this came a 
glow, as of a full moon in its meridian, in which the features 
of those present were just visible, as in a midnight of Summer. 
The bed stood in a recess, shut in with a mirror, which, turn- 
ing upon a hinge, opened into a boudoir beyond ; and the 
exquisite contrivances of refinement and luxury, in the dress- 
ing-rooms and alcoves around, were a new study of Art, even 
for those well versed in European palaces. One begins life 
with dreaming that beauties are thus lodged, in fjairy land, or 
perhaps in the dwellings of kings, but the ideal is seldom so 
realized as in the bed-room of the fair authoress who is here 
at home. 

Passing on, through other apartments, (the last of which 
was one of the two supper- rooms kept open on different sides 
of the house throughout the evening,) the guest entered 
upon a little wilderness of verdure and flowers, in which the 
air was as fragrant and soft as in a garden of the tropics in 
June. In the midst played a fountain, fifteen or twenty feet 
in the air, and the parterre around the basin was green with 



NATURE INTRODUCED INTO SOCIETY. £69 

dewy moss of most fresh and luxuriant vegetation, studded 
with statuary and shut in by a circle of the most magnificent 
exotics. Birds sat in the trees, and flower-beds of earth ed^ed 
the paved walks, and, from the lofty glass roof, hung trailing 
plants, thickening the air with leaves as in a wood. 

This garden-drawing-room was beautiful enough in itself 
— thronged as it was with ladies in ball dresses — but, as it 
formed the last of the suite of larger rooms which run the 
length of the house, the perspective view, seen from its further 
side, was indeed a contrast to remember. The brilliantly 
lighted saloons, lined with satin and gold, were an unsepara- 
ted continuation of the garden — a rural Paradise extending 
into a ball-room — green leaves and fragrant flowers near by, 
and a crowd of waltzers and promenaders beyond, whose 
jewels and gay ornaments were flashing in the brighter light 
— falling water, whose murmur was softened, here, by the 
humid atmosphere, and a band of music, heard indistinctly 
through the bright air in the distance. " All this, besides, was 
so multiplied by walls of mirror, that to the very end of the 
erening, the extent and structure of the house was a problem 
to those who had not studied it by daylight. "While looking 
at this enchanting foreground and perspective, by-the-way, 
our attention was called to a distinguished group in the room 
next beyond — General Paez, James the novelist, Washington 
Irving, Stevens the traveller, Hon. Frank Granger and his 
daughter, and his Honor the Mayor, standing near enough 
to each other to hav£ been daguerreotyped for a picture. 

We really doubt whether there is in the world a more 
ingenious and tasteful combination of luxury, comfort and 
elegance, within the same extent, than in this American 



270 THE RAG-BAG. 



Trianon. It is a poem of building and furniture. The lady 
of the house (our distant readers will be interested to know) 
has written her travels in the East very delightfully, and her 
daughter is an amateur artist whose pictures are charming 
ornaments to the walls, but the contrivance of such a fairy 
palace, with its wilderness of surprises, amounts to author- 
ship, we think, and the proprietor and contriver, Mr. Haight, 
may be named with honor, as we give credit to inventors and 
authors, architects and artists. 

These very large and splendid entertainments, by the way, 
have one grace, which is (to our thinking) very essential to 
society, and which smaller parties in New- York usually lack. 
At the still larger and very sumptuous ball, at one of our 
new palaces, the night before, and at this which is described 
above, we noticed an unusual number of old 'people. The 
venerable and snowy heads of retired Judges, the thought- 
furrowed countenances of eminent professional men, and the 
benign and gentle faces of elderly ladies, were a background 
to these gay scenes which most touchingly and effectively 
heightened their interests. Need we say it is a part of the 
picture always wanted ? 

Another novelty well worth naming : — the guests came 
much earlier than last winter. The P. M. portion of the parties 
is now a respectable lapse of time. The Ante-Meridian of 
the next day has been overdrawn upon, for the last few years, 
to a degree that called for a reform, and we rejoice to hail it, 
Sufficient for the day, is the gayety thereof. 



THE HUSBAND MARKET 



The annual sigh is about taking place among the middle- 
aged gentlemen of the North — the sigh given in tender remem- 
brance of the Southern Beauties who once came with this 
season to Saratoga. The discontinuance of the yearly migra- 
tion from those latitudes of lovely languor to the watering-places 
of the North, is a political pity, we think, more especially — 
for it sent many a New England heart to the South to be 
kept from " disunion" during the winter — but it is for lesser 
reasons that regret for it may also be expressed. The South- 
ern influence on Northern character and manners was most 
opportune and beneficial. To our sharp and angular viva- 
ciousness it gave a shading of graceful indolence ; to our petty 
and local rivalries and jealousies, it lent the liberalization of 
ideas from a distance ; to our sordid and hard New-England- 
ism, it exhibited the standards more delicate and more 
unmercenary and chivalric, which, from some cause or other, 

(271) 



2Y2 THE RAG BAG. 



prevail most on the South side of the Potomac. Considered 
merely as a departed annual happiness for Northern men, 
however — politics and lesser utilities aside — it is a loss to be 
feelingly mourned over. Coming from a part of the country 
where the men live lives of comparative leisure, the Southern 
women had habits of conversation balanced with the interests 
of the other sex as well as their own. They talked well upon 
men's topics. Their feeling of complete and undisputed good 
breeding and high station, moreover, gave them a confident 
and unsuspicious repose of manner, which, with their fascinat- 
ing languor of movement and the peculiar softness of eye that 
belongs to their climate, made them differently bewitching 
from the belles of the North, and added largely to the varieties 
of heart-breaking. Are we to forget this meridional type of 
American loveliness ? Should not Martin go South and bring 
us next a Book of Beauty from that region of what is most 
peculiar among us — that kind of Orientalism made delicate and 
intellectual ? 

There is another lessening of belles at Newport and Saratoga, 
from the discovery that it costs no more to go to Paris or 
London. The smoothness and speed of the summer passages 
across the Atlantic, and the fact, that, in the pleasures of a 
European trip Papas and Mammas are shares also, are 
strengthening reasons which will more and more thin off the 
wealthier classes from our fashionable watering-places. 

We see symptoms of another idea gaining ground, which 
promises to affect the frequentation of these resorts. Though 
it is well known that an American marries but for his own 
life-time, and that a European, where laws of primogeniture 
prevail, brings fortune and consequence that are bridged back 



THE HUSBAND MARKET. 273 

and forward, either way, over three or four past and future 
generations, the prejudice in favor of "marrying a rich young 
man" has been long in giving way. There was a first glitter 
about it, which blinded our ladies to the truth that it was a 
different matter on this side the water ; and the beaux at the 
Springs being principally the sons of rich men, summer trips 
thither have been thought good both for health and prospects. 
Ideas are changing, however. Instructive examples have 
corroborated the republican croakings on the subject. At 
whichever end of the horn a young man goes in — the large 
en/l rich, or the little end poor — his coming out at the other, in 
his own lifetime, is, in this country, the greater probability. 
But these makers, and not spenders, of fortunes — these poor 
young men who are the " best matches" — are not to be found 
at the watering-places. Hence, as we said, the removal of an 
inducement — unconfessed but still of some little weight, per- 
haps — for the frequentation of Newport and Saratoga. 

Fashion and Pleasure will still muster strong at these lux- 
urious and showy resorts, however, and, just now, the prepar- 
ations for " The Season" are extensive. 
12* 



FASHION, MOVEMENTS AND THE SEASON. 



The weather that should been on its way to the North Pole, 
has stayed for another look at Steffanoni and her mates, and 
the sympathy with the Cuban revolution having been neutral- 
ized by the admiration of the same troop, (according to a 
morning paper,) there can no longer be a doubt as to the love 
of music in this our clime and time. The town is full of fash- 
ionables who would not be here if the weather had been warm- 
er. June is the time for a journey ; and, in common years, 
when the trees are held motionless with the first warm wea- 
ther and the weight of their new-piled loads of leaves, people 
who " can get away" go off to Niagara and Lake George, 
Trenton Ealls and the Canadas — a journey in June being as 
established a fashionability as a visit to Newport or Saratoga 
in July and August. And those, by the way, who would not 
forget how lovely Nature is, at her best and freshest, should 

no more miss a visit to the country, in this honeymoon of the 

(274) 



FASHION, MOVEMENTS AND THE SEASON. 275 

year, than they should miss seeing the bride in her orange- 
flower wreath, or the beloved child when first washed and 
dressed, and bright with the sleep-refreshed spirits of the 
morning. 

The new people, in new equipages, who have so abounded 
in Broadway of late, fore-shadow the increase of display that 
will be seen at the watering-places in the coming summer ; 
and, as first attempts at fashion sit better on horses and har- 
ness than on ladies and laces, the beach at Newport is likely 
to be more embellished than the drawing-room To see an 
Indian wear a hat for the first time is a more interesting sight, 
however, than to see your most admired friend wear his ; and 
for the same reason, it is curious to see ladies newly diamond 
ed, and men newly glorified with hock, homage and horses 
It is with a curiosity without disrespect, however, that a sensi 
ble man observes such things. Just as muddy was the clay of 
which were made the original bricks of the social architecture of 
other countries ; and, if California mud likes to call itself bricks 
before baking, the old mud of England and France, at the 
same stage, had the same weakness. "We are less to be 
laughed at than French or English parvenus, indeed, as our 
fashion-kiln' on this side the water, bakes vulgarity in half the 
time. An Englishman, as the proverb goes, " must have had 
a grandfather, to be a gentleman," while an American needs 
but a father. 

The new suburb of New- York — the east bank of the Hud- 
son for fifty miles, brought within the distance of " there and 
back between meals," — alters somewhat the summer prospects 
of many of our citizens. Many who used to shut up their 
houses, send their families to Saratoga or Newport, and make 



276 THE RAG-BAG. 



up their minds to stay in town alone for a couple of months 
and attend to business, are now purchasing cottage-sites on 
the North Eiver, and will go home nightly, as usual, by rail- 
train, instead of by omnibus. The New Haven Eailroad has 
made another fifty mile suburb on the other side, accessible 
also after business hours, and the Paterson Eailroad brings 
the pure hills of Eockland County equally near, and it is easy 
to see how these wonderful facilities are making New- York 
an incomparably convenient place of residence, while they 
must also, eventually, break up the American peculiarity of 
promiscuous resort to watering-places. A country seat, or 
" a box," on the Hudson, or in Eockland County, or on the 
Sound, or on the South Shore, or Staten Island, will gradu- 
ally become the more fashionable, as it is the more sensible 
and luxurious thing, and, (the substantial necessity for a gen- 
eral summer resort thus taken away,) Saratoga and Newport 
will lessen in their attraction and frequentation. We recom- 
mend to the Incognito of the " Lorgnette" to lose no time, 
with his phototypic pencil, in making sketches of the gregari- 
ous days of watering-places while they last. 



TOWN TOPICS 



The city is an omelette of snow and mud, the slight stiffening 
of the frost just sufficing to make the wheels of the omnibuses 
travel like a reluctant cutting spoon. The sidewalks are 
dirty " beyond description," for either sex ; but, for the sex 
who walk abroad, each with her stenographer behind her, 
carrying home a faithful imprint of the state of the streets, 
written by a reporting petticoat upon the white pages of her 
heels, the last week's walking, has been, even for this perseve- 
ring record, too horrible. Few ladies have been seen out of 
doors, and the stocking history of the weather has been pro- 
portionately interrupted. It is but fair to add, by the way, 
that, (simultaneous with the late protest against the printing 
of kitchen testimony in the columns that sustain public intelli- 
gence,) there has been a protest against the printing of street 
dirt upon the fair columns that sustain female beauty. An 

(277) 



278 



THE RAG-BAG. 



" Appeal" has been published, signed by fourteen ladies, 
which will, some day, be a curious document. It shows the 
difficulty of changing a fashion, even where cleanliness and 
health make the change imperatively expedient ; and it is an 
appeal moreover, which every journal should echo, for the good 
of its lady readers. The following passages contain its sub- 
stance : — 

K We, the undersigned, American "Women, beg leave to present the 
following facts to the consideration of the public. 

" We have been for years oppressed, and many of us have had our 
health seriously injured by the unhealthy and uncomfortable forms of 
dress adopted by the women of our country from fashions made by 
foreign modistes. 

" Some months since, being convinced, that, like our fathers, we had 
' the inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,' we 
changed our dress, for one short, light, and easy — which was named 
by the common voice, from one who wore it, the ' Bloomer Dress.' 
The advantages of this dress are seen at once by almost all sensible 
people. But the result of our wearing it has been, in New- York and 
other cities, and in some country places, a uniform system of insult 
and outrage. Ladies of irreproachable character, walking in the 
streets of New- York, acccompanied by their husbands and brothers, 
have been followed by a rabble, have beeh hissed and hooted, and 
most insulting words addressed to them. 

" They have borne this in silence, hoping to outlive it — but there is 
a limit to human forbearance. 

" We wish now to understand whether we have a civil and political 
right to wear a decent and healthy dress, and whether we are to be 
protected in the exercise of this right, or whether the New-York 
public is a mob by majority. 

" The fashionable dress, worn by the women of our city, is 



TOWN TOPICS. 279 



unhealthy at all times ; and in bad weather leads to indecent exposure 
and great discomfort and evil. If we are condemned to this dress by 
the despotism of the mob, how much better is our condition than that 
of those equally oppressed in foreign lands, by the tyranny of the few 1 
Is a mob of Haynau's to be preferred to one 1 

" We ask protection of the law, and of our fellow-citizens, in the 
exercise of our inalienable rights, and we believe it will be effectually 
given by our natural protectors the moment this subject is seen in its 
true light." 

"Without advocating the Bloomer dress, which (pantaloons 
and all) is needlessly unbecoming, we may venture to express 
an opinion that a cloth gaiter protecting the ankle, and a bad 
weather dress short enough to escape the mud, would be neither 
conspicuous nor inelegant. Ladies, of course, will best 
decide on their own compromise ; but we seriously think that 
a choice between no exercise and fresh air, or a walk with 
muddy and wet skirts beating against the heels at every step, 
is an unworthy dilemma for woman, in this age of good sense. 
Pure principles first, and cleanliness and health, before all 
things else in woman, are what men look and pray for, in 
all whose charm they wish to strengthen or perpetuate. 

We are happy to chronicle, that the meteor of Buena Vista 
and Besaca de la Palma — the lock of hair from Old Whitey's 
tail, sent to us to be given to Ole Bull and incorporated into 
his violin bow — has been duly delivered to the Norwegian, 
and is in process of being tightened up to its destiny. We 
cannot but feel that the catgut with which it is to be brought 
into contact, should be somewhat select. There is a differ- 
ence in cats, though the whole race of this species of animal is 
peculiarly electrical. To understand what might be expected 



280 THE RAG-BAG. 



from so electric an elbow as Ole Bull's, so inspired a violin- 
bow as one made of the tail of Old Whitey, and so susceptible 
an instrument as one strung from the intestines of the choicest 
of cats, perhaps we might do well to refresh the reader's mem- 
ory with a passage from Natural History. Of the " cat," the 
Encyclopaedia says : — 

"This, of all domesticated animals, is the least servile or restrained ; 
and, though instances of personal attachment are not wanting, the 
affection of the cat is rather to the house than its owner. There are 
many singularities in the nature of the cat. She is remarkably ner- 
vous, and readily startled ; gives out the electric spark when her fur is 
rubbed contrary to its direction, and is very conspicuous when this is 
done in the dark. Under the excitement of fear, the same effect is 
produced on the long hairs of the tail as if a stream of electricity 
were transmitted through them, and they all stand out from the sur- 
face to which they are attached, giving the tail an appearance of treble 
its usual thickness ; at the same time the back is raised, and the body 
drawn into its smallest compass. Cats are attracted by peculiar 
odors, and exhibit a violent fondness for catmint and valerian, rubbing 
their noses and rolling in the latter with signs of great and uncontrol- 
lable excitement. Cats are very cleanly, are fond of warmth, and seek 
a soft place for their repose. They express their satisfaction by a pecu- 
liar, soft, vibrating noise called 'purring? Incapable of long contin- 
ued speed, their usual gait is slow, cautious and stealthy, with their 
ears distended to catch the most trifling noise. Guided by these organs, 
the internal structure of which is highly developed, they trace the 
sound of footsteps to an almost incredible distance, and .direct them- 
selves towards their prey with unerring certainty." 



The reader will see, by the above, that the cat is a demo- 
crat, being " of all domestic animals the least servile"— that 






TOWN TOPICS. 281 



she is a barnburner and patriot, having " an affection rather 
for the house than its owner" — capable of being a spiritual 
medium, being " remarkably nervous" and " giving out the 
electric spark" — and naturally musical, having a " peculiar, 
soft, vibrating purr to express her satisfaction, and " ears 
whose internal structure is highly developed." "We wish to 
show, it will be perceived, out of what elements the music 
would come, that might now be produced by Ole Bull, with 
the Old Whitey bow, and a violin, the pedigree of whose 
strings had been looked into. Does any one believe that 
there is no distinction between that horse's tail and any other 
— between the electric influence of one entrail and another — 
between the playing on these by the wild son of superstitious 
Norway, or the playing on them by a mechanical Herr Men- 
ghis or Sivori ? Does any one believe, (to come to the point,) 
that a March for Liberty, composed by the Scandinavian, and 
played by him, on choice striyigs, and with hair from Old 
Whiteifs tail, for the cause of Hungary, would not " draw," 
to the tune of five dollars a ticket ? We wish Kossuth may 
get ten thousand dollars so easy in any other way ! 

The Boston Transcript doubts whether Ole Bull is bodily 
among us. He is: — we have touched him, and seen him eat, 
with mortal knife and fork, at our own table. But he is as 
near a myth as ever — perhaps nearer, for his wild imagina- 
tion has had more event and expansion. He has indulged his 
romance by a campaign with the French army in Africa, and 
he has lived months of solitude on the island which he owns, 
upon the coast of Norway. A liberal and patriotic project 
has also taxed his utmost powers for the last two years — 



232 



THE RAG-BAG. 



the creation of a nationality in his native land by the estab- 
lishment of a Norwegian theatre at Christiana. A drama in 
their native language they had never known; and, though he 
met with every opposition from the foreign influence which 
had monopolized theatricals till then, he was triumphantly suc- 
cessful. It was a hard task, and he has left home to get 
breath and revisit the scenes of his former successes. There 
seems to be no intention in his mind of any professional 
appearance, and in what we have said of a use of his new 
violin-bow for the cause of Hungary, we have merely spun 
a cobw T eb of our own. He is the most impulsive and generous 
of creatures, however, and if he were sure that the public 
were very curious to hear from Old Whitey in his new voca- 
tion, and if that curiosity could be turned to any worthy and 
sufficient purpose, he would so appropriate it, we are very 
sure. The Hungarian committee might turn it over. 

The war of the "Operas is producing varied novel phe- 
nomena. We regret that we cannot describe it as an eye- 
witness, (a certain " church-yard cough" making us quite too 
noisy a neighbor for a listening assembly,) but friends describe 
it as quite equal in interest to the War of the Eoses. The 
fashionable Astor-Place has come down to fifty cents, and, 
as this was too cheap for Parodi, her resignation is an- 
nounced. She must be dear, or nothing. The music has 
greatly improved by the competition. Another result has 
come about — interesting to the ladies. Bonnet costume 
at Niblo's has suddenly attained great elegance. Three 
ladies out of four look better in bonnets, and the variety of 
this class of dress is very much greater. The men, old 






TOWN TOPICS. 283 



and young, seem to like the conveniences and usages of 
Niblo's, and that house, we fancy, has only to remedy its 
difficulties as to sound, to become the permanent Operatic 
locality. 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 



[The following dialogue editorials would not be given entire — some 
of the topics being altogether of temporary interest — but for the diffi- 
culty of detaching what might more properly remain. They were 
written many years ago, when the author and his present partner, 
Gen. Morris, were engaged on another periodical ; and with this de- 
precatory apology, the reader is begged to accept them in their origi- 
nal completeness.] 



CONFAB I. 

Not a small part of our brain-twisting, dear reader, is the 
exercise of an. office that, at Roman feasts, was delegated to a 
particular servant called the nomenclator. His business was 
to inform the guests of the names and ingredients of the dishes 
set before them. Simple as it seems when well done, there are 
few things more difficult to do well. It is to describe a book, 

(285) 



286 



THE RAG-BAG. 



or a series of books, in the compass of a phrase, and that 
phrase attractive to eye and ear, piquant, novel, and provoca- 
tive of curiosity ! Try your hand at expressing the contents 
of a charcoal-cart in the compass of a diamond ! 

It would amuse the reader to be present sometimes when 
No. 4, Ann street, is resolved into a committee of two for 
the finding of a good name. (Witlings, avaunt !) The firm 
is called together by a significant motion of the forefinger of 
the brigadier founder of the concern — called into the cloister, 
that is to say, a room of the proportions of a lady's shoe, ex- 
tending to our (No. 4's) immediate rear. The door being 
closed, and the window-curtain dropped to exclude the unin- 
spiring view of the clothes-lines of No. 4, upstairs — the one 
chair having become occupied by his Serenity, and the re- 
mainder of the committee being seated upon the upright end 
of a ream of paper, the business in hand is forthwith put. Let 
no one imagine, because he may have assisted at naming a 
friend's child, that he has any, the most vague, idea of the 
embarrassments that ensue ! "We have a passably fertile in- 
vention. "We have whiled away the dull transit of what is 
commonly called " a liberal education" by a diligent search 
after such knowledge as was above being " turned to ac- 
count." We have been a profligate of verbal intemperance, 
we mean to say, and are likely to know the bin where lies in 
cobweb your old word, toothsome and tasteable. But for all 
this, it is no easier. Like the search after happiness, ten to 
one the thing sought lies near home — overstepped at starting ! 
But let us particularize. 

The Brigadier. — My dear boy (a facetious way he has of 
addressing the rest of tho committee !) — my dear boy, stop 



1 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 287 



looking out of that back window, and give your mind to busi- 
ness ! Cast your eye over these four incomparable tales ! 
Irving's " Wife" — 

Committee. — You don't say he's married, general ! 

Brigadier. — Tales, my dear boy, I speak of tales — a new 
series of tales that want a good name ! Come, think of it, 
now ! 

Committee. — Describe me the article, brigadier ! What is 
the purpose, plot, character ? Is it one book or a series ? 
P Open up," as Bulwer says, and let us know definitely what 
is wanted ! 

Brigadier. — You know how many men of genius there are 
who are only capable of brief inspirations — 

Committee. — Inspired to the length of a short'tale. Well ! 

Brigadier. — You know that long tales are now out of 
fashion. People are tired of them. 

Committee. — Indeed ? Well ! 

Brigadier. — You know that such men as Brougham, Can- 
'ning, Macauley — statesmen who are scholars and men of ge- 
nius, and might have been authors — have occasionally given 
vent to their pent-up imaginations by a tale for the maga- 
zines. 

Committee. — I do — witness Brougham's magnificent story 
of the " man in the bell." Well ! _ 

Brigadier. — We know what is good, that goes by with the 
flood, don't we ? 

Committee. — We are professed tasters. Yes, 

Brigadier. — For experiment, then, I have put together, in 
one number, four tales that delighted me — in more than one 
enchanted perusal. You shall select the next. It will go, my 



288 THE RAG-BAG; 






dear boy ! — people will give their couple of shillings, if it were 
only for the rescue we make, for them, of things they re- 
member and have lost sight of. There are g — 1 — o — rious 
things hit off, here and there, at a heat, by periodical writers 
— one hit in a thousand failures, it is true, but still enough 
of them for a brilliant collection — and these we want to gather 
into our brilliant library, and embalm from perishing. See 
here ! " Judith, or. the Opera Box, by Eugene Scribe " — 
(great, my boy, great !) — " The Beggar-Girl of the Pont 
des Ae.ts," by a German man, Hauff (ah ! what a rich bit to 
read over and over !) — " The Picnic Party," by Horace 
Smith (you know all about that ?) — and " The Wife," by 
Irving — a worthy companion for them ; and now, what shall 
we call the series ? 

Committee. — Hm — m — m. How do you like "fannoms 
and fopperies f" 

Brigadier. — Bah ! 

Committee — " Diapasms ?" 

Brigadier. — Poh ! 

Committee. — The " Pomander-chain?'''' 

Brigadier. — My dear boy, let it be English and honest ! 
You distress me with these affectations ! "What have cata- 
plasms and pomatum-chains to do with a course of light read- 
ing ? Don't waste time ! 

Committee. — A diapasm, my charming brigadier, was a 
bunch of aromatic herbs made into a ball with sweet water, 
and, in Ben Johnson's time, worn in a lady's pocket. Gal- 
lants wore these scented balls strung in a necklace under the 
shirt, and so worn, it was called a pomander-chain. Pardon 
me, but these would be good names, for want of better ! 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 289 

Brigadier. — Mr. King *would be down upon us, and the 
definition would never get through his hair ! No, my dear 
boy ! We must be ostriches, and feel the ground while we 
fly. Keep out of the clouds till you're " sent for !" I like 

•" The russet yeas, and honest kersey noes," 

and so does my regiment — I mean the public. Imagine a 
good name, now, that would suit a plain man! 

Committee. — Faith, it takes imagination to come at that, 
sure enough ! Hark ! I have it ! 

Brigadier. — Come to my arms ! What is it ? Speak quick, 
or it'll die in delivery ! 

Committee. — Did you ever hear of a river in Asia called 
Pactolus ? 

Brigadier.— -To be sure. An ass dipped his head into it 
to be able to stop making money. 

Committee. — That's the fable. And ever since there have 
been gold sands in the river — " or so they say." 

Brigadier. — And that you think is like fugitive literature ? 

Committee. — I do. I was there ten years ago, and the gold 
sands were as scarce as good things in the magazines. 

Brigadier. — You'll swear to that ? 

Committee. — With a reservation, I will. I went to the 
Pactolus one moonlight night, and filled my pockets with sand 
to look at in the morning. I was travelling with a caravan, 
and we were off before day, but there was no gold in my 
pocket, come daylight — sifted out, most likely ! 

Brigadier. — Shouldn't be surprised ! " Sands of Gold," 
then, you think would be a good name. 

Committee. — Sands of Gold, sifted from the flood of fugitive 

literature. 

13 



290 THE RAG-BAG. 



Brigadier. — Good ! passable good! Let the committee rise. 

You see how it is done, dear reader, and you will the better 
comprehend, from this specimen, how we came upon another 
— a name for a series of sacred poetry, of which we are about 
to issue the first number. We have called this series " The 
Sacred Kosary" — a musical word that, in old English, meant 
a plantation of roses, but which was afterward used to define 
the verses of a church-psalter, strung together with beads for 
an aid to memory. In either signification, it figures forth what 
we enrol beneath it — for a more beautiful collection of hal- 
lowed verse was never collected than this we have to offer. 
We have always especially loved poetry on sacred themes, 
and have garnered up specimens of it, and let us assure the 
reader that in this field of poetry there is a rich harvest un- 
gathered. Let him look at this first number for a specimen 
of the mind and taste scattered abroad in these stray leaves of 
poetry. 



CONFAB II. 



Four o'clock and the Pomeridian of an April day. The 
brigadier's audiences are suspended to make room for a ses- 
sion of the committee, and the door is closed — printers, poets, 
engravers, stitchers and folders (these female,) advertisers, 
carriers, agents, stereotypers, ruthlessly excluded. Truly, as 
Shakspere says, " every man hath business and desire" (for 
the brigadier's society,) " such as it is." Long last his " sua- 
viter in modo" his "for titer in re /" 

Brigadier. — To business, my boy ! What lies in that fourth 
pucker of your eyelid ? Smile and let it drop away easy ! 

Committee. — Thirteen letters by to-day's mail, containing 
propositions to publish immortal works by living and mortal 
American authors, most of them never before heard of — post- 
age nine and sixpence, of which please make a memorandum 
in my favor. 

(291) 



292 THE RAG-BAG. 



Brigadier. — Fifty-nine cents each to the cause of unbaptized 
literature ! Are we not involuntary martyrs, my boy ? Why 
the mischief don't you last-page the fact that we publish ex- 
clusively for the trans- Atlantics and the trans-Styxians ! — 
never for those who can cross the water to " settle !" 

Committee. — It shall be done, but there is one applicant 
who deserves a hearing. One of the most gifted women now 
living has employed her leisure in compiling a book to be used 
as a round game played with forfeits, or as a parlor fortune- 
teller. The book is to be called " Oracles from the Poets." 
Questions are proposed, and by the choice of a number the 
inquirer is referred to an answer, in a passage selected from 
the poets. The selections are made with great taste, so as not 
only to convey apposite answers, but to make the reader fami- 
liar with the most beautiful passages of poetry. "What say to 
that? 

Brigadier. — Worth lots of money to Piker or Appleton, my 
boy, but we are in the rapid line, and that sort of work takes 
time. Besides, (and here the brigadier looked modestly at 
his nails,) we couldn't bring our minds to make money out of 
the sex, my boy t Fancy a lovely woman calling on us to 
fork out, as her publisher ! Odious word, "publisher!" It 
has been too long a synonym for " pirate" and " Philistine." 
A few of us immortal bards have Washed and donned the; 
gaberdine of late, but we must let it air, my boy, we must let! 
it air, before wearing it abroad — at least into a lady's pres- \ 
ence ! Think of the maid's asking you to "step into the back' 
room," if you called on a lady, and sent up your name as her 
" publisher !" 

Committee. — Ah ! my illustrious friend and song-builder, 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 



293 



dignity is a Minerva that needs no nurse. It jumps out of 
your head and walks alone. I would not only publish, but 
peddle from two tin boxes, if my wants would not bear dimin- 
ishing, and if only this would supply them ! We're earthy 
ants, not chartered butterflies ! 

Brigadier. — Ha ! ha ! my boy ! my dear boy ! 

" That all the sweetness of the world in one — 
The youth and virtue that would tame wild tigers- 
Should thus be cloistered up !" 

Who else wants to gild a gold leaf in the Mirror Library ? 

Committee. — Seven and two are nine — seven poetesses and 
two he bardlings — pleading for print ! We are 

" Loath to refuse, but loather for to grant ;" 

— will you write the declinatures, dear brigadier ? 

Brigadier. — Make a regret-circular, my boy ! Say that we 
are a partnership of posterity. They must die, to qualify. 
The " Home Library," and the "Parlor Library," and the 
" Drawing-Eoom Library," and the " Knickerbocker Libra- 
ry," and many more — (for whose names, see puffs and adver- 
tisements) — these publish for the equivocal immortals now 
living. We publish only for the immortal dead, or for the 
buried alive, disinterred with our own pick and shovel. 
Write that out, and I'll have it lithographed to save time. 
What next ? 

Committee. — We want a new head. 

Brigadier. — Speak for yourself, my boy ! 

Committee. — A new caption, then (if you will be critical) in 
the Mirror. Where can I praise things, now? There's 
Headley's new book on Italy, worth the best laurel-sprig of 



294 



THE RAG-BAG. 



my picking. There's " Amelia," of the Louisville Journal, 
who has written some poetry about hearing a sermon, that 
traverses your back-bone like electricity, and where to praise 
that ! George Plagg has painted a delicious, sketch of my 
Grlenmary-born Imogen, and I will praise him ! I want a 
place to praise — 

Brigadier. — Hire a pew ! 

Committee. — Will you give me a column ? 

Brigadier. — To your memory, I will. 

Committee. — "Well, my memory wants a column, to record 
the good things I should not forget to praise. 

Brigadier. — Take it — take it — but for Heaven's sake be 
pert and pithy, crisp and critical ! Nothing so dull as praise 
to everybody but the praises. Anything more ? 

Committee. — Yes — 

" The loving mother that nine months did bear 
In the dear closet of her painful side 
Her tender babe, it seeing safe appear 
Doth not so much rejoice," 

as I to inform you of the approaching delivery, from the 
press, of " Pencillings by the Way." My travels have 
seemed interminable. 

Brigadier. — Well, as I assisted at their birth once before, 
I can certify now to their being " born again." Is that what 
you want ? 

Committee. — No — for, half the book was never a book be- 
fore, not having been published except in the old Mirror. I 
want you to make it trip 

" as merry as a grig, 
And brisk as bottled ale," 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 295 



that I may hurry into " calf " all I have written up to last 
year, and start fresh from my meridian with " Dashes at 
Life," and gossips in the cloister. For, as says old Wotton 
in the " Reliquiae," " Though I am a cloistered man in the 
condition of my present life, yet, having spent so much of 
mine age among noise abroad, there still doth hang upon me, 
I know not how, a certain concupiscence of novelty." 

Brigadier. — Verhum sap. sat. Shall the committee rise — 
by getting down off the table ? 

Committee. — Yes ! — one minute ! Have you read the 
proof-sheets of that glorious — glorious — say " glorious !" — 

Brigadier. — Glorious, 

Committee.— Hood's " Midsummer Fairies" — the most de- 
licious " Rococo" conceivable ? Yes ? Be off ! 



CONFAB III. 



Committee — (solus.) — Oh, most beset of brigadiers t Most 
civil of military men ! (for half a firm, the most yielding 
partner of my acquaintance !) when, oh responsible general, 
will you get through with your particular callers and come to 
confab? True, I have dined, and can wait ! True, there 
are joint letters to answer ! True, I can listen, and look out 
into the back yard I Hark ! Syphax, my black boy, loquitur. 

Syphax — {to the general) — Shall I cut out them favorable 
notices from the exchanges, sir ? 

Brigadier. — Those favorable notices, Syphax ! 

Heavens ! what an unfeeling man ! For the love of pity, 
corrupt not the innocent grammar of the lad, my dear briga- 
dier ! Out of seven black boys sent me for trial by the keeper 
of an intelligence-office, six, to my disgust, spoke with the 
painful accuracy of Doctor Pangloss. The last, my inestima- 
ble Syphax, whom that finished brigadier would fain bring to 

(296) 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 



297 



his own level of heartless good grammar, was ignorant (vir- 
tuous youth !) even of the sexes of pronouns ! He came to 
me innocent ; and, I need not say to any writer — to any slave 
of the rule-tied pen — to any man cabined, cribbed, confined, 
as are public scribblers to case and number, gender and con- 
jugation, participle present, and participle past — I need not 
say, to such a victim, what an oasis in the desert of perfec- 
tion was the green spot of a black boy's cacology ! Oh, to 
the attenuated ear of the grammar-ridden ! — to the tense mood 
of unerring mood and tense — what a blessed relief from mo- 
notony is a too-yielding verb, seduced, from its singular ante- 
cedent, by a contiguity of plural ! Out on perfectionists ! 
Out on you, you flaw-less brigadier ! Correct your own peo- 
ple, however ! Inveigle not my Syphax into rhetoric ! Eavish 
not from my use the one variation, long-sought and chance- 
found, from the maddening monotone of good grammar ! 

And this brings to my mind, (if I get time to jot it down 
before the brigadier comes to cloister,) a long-settled convic- 
tion of my own, that the corrections in American manners 
brought about by the criticisms of Trollope and others, have 
been among the worst influences ever exercised upon the 
country. Gracious heaven ! are we to have our national fea- 
tures rasped off by every manner-tinker who chooses to take 
up a file! See how it affects the English to laugh at their 
cockney ignorance and their servility to rank. Do they brag 
less, and drink less beer ? Do they modify their Bow-bell 
dialect one hair, or whip off their hats with less magical 
celerity when spoken to by a lord ? Not a bit ! They will 
be English till they are smothered with Eussians — English 

ghosts (those who die before England is conquered by Eussia) 
13* 



298 ™E RAG-BAG. 



with English manners, till doomsday. They are not so soft 
as to be moulded into American pottery, or German pottery, 
or French pottery, because an American, or a German, or a 
Frenchman, does not find them like his own country's more 
common utensils ! "Where do national features exist ? Not 
among well-bred people ! Not where peas are eaten with a 
fork, and soup-plates left untilted by the hungry ! All well- 
bred people are monotonously alike — whatever their nation, 
and whatever the government they have lived under. Differ- 
ences of manners are found below this level, and the mistake — 
the lamentable mistake — lies in submitting to correct this low 
level by the standards of coxcombs ! "What a picture would 
be without shade — what music would be without discords — 
what life would be without something to smile at — what any- 
thing would be without contrast — that are we becoming by our 
sensitiveness to criticism. Long live our (BxxWjudice) " abom- 
inations." Long live some who spit and whittle, some who 
eat eggs out of wine-glasses and sit on four chairs, some who 
wear long naps to their hats, some who eat peas with a knife, 
some who pour out their tea into saucers, and some who are 
civil to unprotected ladies in stage-coaches ! Preserve some- 
thing that is not English, oh, my countrymen ! 

[Enter the brigadier.] 

Brigadier. — Forgive me, my dear boy — what is that I see 
written on your paper about Eussia V 

" The Kussie men are round of bodies, fully-faced, 
The greatest part -with bellies that overhang the waist, 
Flat-headed for the most, with faces nothing faire, 
But brown by reason of the stoves and closeness of the aire." 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 999 

So says old Tuberville, the traveller — and now to business. 
Jot! 

Committee. — What ? 

Brigadier. — Jot — that we are glad to oner to the patrons 
of the " Mirror Library" a book they will thank us for at 
every line — " The Plea op the Midsummer Fairies," and 
other admirable poems, pregnant with originality and rich- 
ness, by Thomas Hood. His poetry is the very attar, the 
aroma, the subtlest extract of sweet imagination. " Eugene 
Aram" is one of those included in this volume. 

Committee. — What else are you glad of? 

Brigadier. — Glad to be sorry that Parke Godwin's fine ana- 
lytical mind and bold foundry of cast-iron English are not 
freighted with a more popular subject than Fourierism — wor- 
thy though the theme be of the regard of angels whose appro- 
bation don't pay. Politics should be at a lift to deserve the 
best energies of such a writer — but they are not, and so he 
turns to philosophy. 

Committee. — But he should play Quintus Curtius, and 
write up politics to his level, man ! The need is more imme- 
diate than the need of Pourierism. 

Brigadier. — My dear boy, give away nothing but what is 
saleable. Gifts, that would not otherwise have been money 
in your purse, are not appreciated — particularly advice. We 
love Godwin — let us love his waste of ammunition, if it please 
him to waste it. 

Committee. — 

" Then let him weep, of no man mercified," 

if his brains be not coinable to gold. / would make a mer- 
chant of genius ! The world has need of brains like Godwin's, 



30Q THE RAG-BAG; 



and need makes the supply into commodity, and commodity 
is priceable. That's the logic by which even my poor modi- 
cum is made to thrive. Apropos — what do you think of 
these lines on " bells," by Duganne ? A poet, I should say : — 

" Ye melancholy bells, 
Ye know not why ye're ringing — 
See not the tear-drops springing 
From sorrows that ye bring to mind, 
Ye melancholy bells. ' 

" And thus ye will ring on — 
To-day, in tones of sadness ; 
To-morrow, peals of gladness ; 
Ye'll sound them both, yet never feel 
A thrill of either one. 

" Ye ever-changing bells I 
Oh many ye resemble, 
Who ever throb and tremble, 
Yet never know what moves them so — 

Ye ever-changing bells." 

Brigadier. — Kernel-ish and quaint. But, my dear boy, 

" twilight, soft arbiter 
? Twixt day and night," 

is beginning to blur the distinctness of the checks on that 
apron drying upon the line in the back yard. Shall we go to 
tea? 

" By the pricking of our thumbs," the brigadier is mounting 
the stairs. Since the possession of our first operative luxury, 
we have taken a disgust to the cloister — conceiting that the 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. gQ± 

smell of soap, from the lavendering in the hack yard, gave 
a stain to such flowers of imagination as were born there. 
The brigadier says we grow superfine. Soit ! It is time — 
after " taking it as it comes," for so many years. Besides, 
we must have something to set off against his epaulettes ! 
Glory in your staff, dear brigadier, but leave us our cabinet ! 

Brigadier — {entering out of breath?) — Paff! paff ! How the 
breath of life flutters with this vicinity to heaven ! Paff ! paff ! 
— prophetic nature ! "" How are you, my dear upster ? 

Committee. — You see the ink wet in my pen — I was just 
about to dash into a critique. That straw-colored volume of 
poems, by Mrs. Lewis, shows feathers from Pegasus ; though, 
as usual with lady-poems, without any parings from the hoof 
— any trace of that part of the old steed that touches earth. It 
takes wrongs and sufferings — like those of Mrs. Norton, 
L. E. L., and Mrs. Hemans — to compound a poetess of 
any reality and strength. Soil, that, if torn up with a 
ploughshare, may yield the heavy grain of anguish, will yield 
nothing but daisies and white clover, lying undisturbed in the 
sunshine. Yet this same white clover is very sweet grazing, 
and Mrs. Lewis's is a very sweet book. May she never 
write a better one — by having suffered enough to " qualify /" 

Brigadier. — Amen ! I say, my boy, what a clever thing 
Inman is making of his magazine ! The May number is 
beautiful. What a good pick he has among the magazine- 
writers 1 

Committee. — Excellent — but he uses himself up with making 
his correspondents work, and sets too little value on his own 
writings. He wants a sub. for drudgery. He could with his 
strong fabric of good sense, (which is genius,) and his excel- 



302 THE RAG-BAG. 



lent critical powers, make all the rest of the " Columbian" 
subservient to his own articles. 

Brigadier. — Tell him so. 

Committee. — Will he stand it — as your firm ally ? 

Brigadier. — Bless your soul, he has told you many a plainer 
thing in print. 

Committee. — Has he ? Here goes, then : — 

" For Jove's right hand, -with thunder cast from sky 
Takes open vengeance oft for secret ill." 

But now we think of it, you are bound to be particularly 
good-natured, my dear brigadier. With what enthusiasm 
they received your song the other night at the Tabernacle — 
"The Pastor's Daughter!" That, and "Boatman haste," 
and " Cheerly o'er the mountains," are three songs, that, 
skilfully built, as they are, upon three of our most exquisite 
national melodies, and intrinsically beautiful in words and 
music, will be classics. Atwill has published them charming- 
ly, too. What lots of money you ought to make out of these 
universalities ! 

Brigadier. — My dear boy, stop praising me at a judicious 
place — for praise, like " heat, hath three degrees : first, it 
indurateth or maketh strong ; next it maketh fragile ; and 
lastly, it doth encinerate or calcinate, or crumble to pieces." 

Committee. — Subtle tactician ! How you have corrupted 
my rural simplicity ! Mff-— mff— mff ! I think I sniff mint ! 
The wind sets this way from Windust's. How it exhausts 
the juices to talk pleasantly with a friend ; and, by-the-way, 
soft crabs are in the market. What say to a dish of water- 
cresses, and such other things as may suggest themselves — we 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 303 

two — over the way ! We are in too good humor to dine in 
public to-day. We should seem to lack modesty, with this 
look of exultation on our faces. 

Brigadier. — To dinner, with all my heart — for the Mirror 
has an appetite — the philosopher's tranquil appetite — idem 
contemptui et admirationi habitus. 

Committee — I go to shave off this working face, my " a dear 
general ! Please amuse yourself with my warm pen. Our 
correspondents, " Y." and " E. K." — two "treasures trove," 
if such periodical ever had — should be gracefully and grate- 
fully thanked. Do it while I am gone, with your usual 
suaviter. 

\_Brigadier writes.'} 



CONFAB IV. 



(" The Committee" trimming pencil in the Eastern-most bathing-house 
on Rockaway beach. Enter the Brigadier with nostrils inflated.) 

Brigadier. — Fmff! Fmff! God bless the Atlantic ocean ! 
Fmff! " Salt sea" indeed ! I never smelt a breeze fresher. 
Fmff ! fmff ! fmff ! You got the start of me, my dear boy ! 
{pulls his last high heel out of the deep sand and sits down on 
the threshold.) What say to a strip and dip before we come 
to business ? 

Committee. — Fie ! — general, fie ! Look through your fingers 
at the other end of the beach ! It is the hour of oceanic bea- 
titude — the ladies bathing ! The murmuring waters will be 
purer for the interview. Bathe we in the first wave after ! 

Brigadier. — How can you 

" Play in wench-like words with that 
Which is so serious i" 

Did you bring a towel, mi-boy ? 

304 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 305 

Committee. — Tut ! — would you offend the south wind, that 
proffers the same office so wooingly! Walk on the beach, 
man, and let the sun peruse you, while you dry ! 

Brigadier. — So should I be more red, with a vengeance ! 
But I don't like this dry-salting, mi-boy ! It's too sticky ! 
Ye gods ! look at the foam upon that wave! What is that 
like, my poet ? 

Committee. — Like the unrolling of a bale of lace on a broad 
counter ! The " tenth wave" is the head clerk, and the clams 
and soft crabs are the ladies shopping ! How I love the affi- 
nities of Art and Nature ! 

Brigadier.— Poh ! Where's Nature's twine and brown 
paper ? Don't be transcendental ! 

Committee. — How ignorant you are, not to know eel-grass 
and devil's apron — Nature's twine and brown paper ! My 
dear general, were you ever introduced to the Atlantic ? Is 
this your first visit ? Stand up in the doorway ! 

(Brigadier rises and the surf bows to the ground.) 

General Morris ! the Atlantic ocean. Atlantic ocean ! 
General Morris. I am happy to bring two such distinguished 
" swells" together. Though {apropos, Mr. " Heaving Main !") 
the general is a gay man ! Look out for your " pale Cyn- 
thia !" The moon is not famed for her constancy ! 

Brigadier. — What are you mumbling there, mi-boy ! I 
wish, under the tender influence of these suggesting waters, 
to express a wish that you would write some poetry, or give 
us a new tale, or dash us off a play, or — 

Committee. — Or, in some other way make rubbish for pos- 
terity ! No, sir ! There are no pack-horses in Posthumous- 
land, and, as much as will ride in a ghost's knapsack, with his 



306 THE RAG-BAG. 



bread and cheese, is as much, in quantity, as any man should 
write who has pity for his pedestrian soul on its way to 
dooms-day ! Why, general, the tales which I am about to 
publish (including "Inklings," " Loiterings" etc., etc.), will 
make, of themselves, a most adult-looking octavo. My poems 
and plays have tonnage enough to carry, at least, all the bulk 
necessary to a fame ; my miscellanies, yet to be collected, 
will make a most sizeable volume of slip-slop ; pencillings is 
no pamphlet; and Letters prom under a Bridge, and other 

epistolary production do you see how beautifully the sand 

immortalizes the industrious waves that write successfully 
their sparkling lines on the beach ! 

Brigadier. — Don't malign your " eternal fame, mi-boy !" 
Committee. — More eternal, I believe, than the love of the 
impertinent Lothario in the sonnet : — 

("But say, my all ! my mistress ! and my Mend ! 
"What day next week th' eternity shall end ?") 

but how much more eternal it would be, if they would make 
the genesis of a man's works like that of the patriarchs-— date- 
able from the first satisfactory offshoot of his manhood ! Do 
you remember the expressive genealogy of Shem ? 

12. And Arphaxad lived jive and thirty years and begat Salah : 

13. And Arphaxad lived after he begat Salah four hundred and 
three years and begat sons and daughters. 

14. And Eber lived four and thirty years and begat Peleg : 

15. And Eber lived after he begat Peleg four hundred and thirty 
years, and begat sons and daughters. 

And so on up to Abraham, whose father was seventy years 
old when he was born. But don't you suppose these boys 
did anything before they were thirty-odd? Their history 
begins with their first creditable production ! Eber was 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 3Q7 



nothing till he begat Peleg, though, very likely, the critics of 
that time " preferred very much his earlier productions." 

Brigadier. — And you think you could begin, now, with 
your first Peleg and Salah ? 

Committee. — You have said it. But, as I hinted before, 

my posthumous knapsack is already full of rubbish, and 

a thought strikes me ! 

Brigadier. — " Call it out !" 

Committee. — I'll change my style and start a new reputa- 
tion, incog ! 

Brigadier. — Famous ! 

Committee. — And sell some man the glory of it for an an- 
nuity ! 

Brigadier. — Good ! 

Committee. — ( Thoughtfully) — The old countess of Desmond 
shed her teeth three times. 

Brigadier. — A precedent in nature. 

Committee. — [Firmly) — Soit ! Done ! So be it ! Hang 
me if I don't ! You'll hear of a new author before long — one 
that beats me hollow ! Look me up a purchaser, my dear 
brigadier ! Literary fame furnished at — say, three thousand 
dollars per annum ! 

Brigadier. — Mi-boy, the ladies have left the beach — I won- 
der if the sea would condescend to us, now ! 

Committee. — Peltry after roses and ivory ! — I don't know ! 

Brigadier. — Talking of Esau — he should have lived in 
cravat-time. Well-drest, your hirsute customers looks not 
amiss ! (No pun, you villain !) Stand back, my unclad-boy ! 
Here comes a wagon-load of women ! 

Committee. — Chambermaids and nurses ; who, by the way 



308 THE RAG-BAG. 



they flock to the beach in the male hours, must either have 
eyes with a nictitating membrane, or a modesty that is confined 
to what they hear. I wish to heaven that all females were 
patricians — undesecrated by low taste and servitude ! It's 
like classifying owls with angels because they are both feath- 
ered, to call these rude creatures women ! What's that scar 
on your breast, brigadier ? 

Brigadier. — Slide down your " nictitating membrane," mi- 
boy, and don't be too observing ! Here goes ! Hup ! (The 
brigadier rushes into the surf, takes a stitch through three frills 
of the island's shirt, and rises like a curly-headed sun from the 
ocean.) 

■ Committee. — (solus). — There he swims ! God bless him for 
a buoyant brigadier ! How the waves tumble over his plump 
shoulders, delighted to feel the place where ride his epaulets 
and his popularity ! Look out for sharks, my dear general ! 
They snuff a poet afar off 1 Natural victims we are to them 
— on land or water ! Hear him laugh as he shakes the brine 
out of his whiskers ! Was ever such a laugh ! His heart 
gives that " ha ! ha !" a fillip as it sets out ! I must swim off 
to him ! Clear the beach, soft crab and sand-bird ! Morris 
and Willis must swim together ! 



Brigadier. (Sitting down to dry.) — This salting freshens a 
man, and this wetting makes him dry. Oh for a drink and 
the asp of Cleopatra — a cobbler and a viper ! Shake yourself, 
mi-boy ! 

Committee.— Suppose we roll in the sand and take a 
wrestle, like the athletse of old — eh ? How do you propose 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 309 

to get the sand and gravel out from your doigts du pied, gene- 
ral ? 

Brigadier. — " Gravelled," we are, mi-boy, but not " for 

lack of matter !" Let's dress first, and then go down and 
rinse our feet with the aid of the moon's lover — lacking a ser- 
vant to bring a pail ! Are you dry ? 

Committee. — Inner and outer man — very! "What's this — 
dropped out of your pocket ! 

Brigadier. — A song* that I wrote for Brown to set to 
music. Shall I read it to you ? 

(Brigadier reads with his hand on his breast.) 

'tis now the promised hour. 

" The fountains serenade the flowers, 

Upon their silver lute — 
And, nestled in their leafy bowers 

The forest-birds are mute : 
The bright and glittering hosts above. 

Unbar their golden gates, 
While nature holds her court of love, 

And for her client waits. 
Then, lady, wake — in beauty rise ! 

'Tis now the promised hour, 
"When torches kindle in the skies 

To light thee to thy bower. 

" The day we dedicate to care — 
To love the witching night ; 
For all that's beautiful and fan- 
In hours like these unite. 

* This song, set to music, has been purchased and copy-righted by 
Mr. Atwill. 



310 THE RAG-BAG; 



E'en thus the sweets to flowerets given — 

The moonlight on the tree — 
And all the bliss of earth and heaven — 

Are mingled, love, in thee. 
Then, lady, wake — in beauty rise ! 

'Tis now the promised hour, 
When torches kindle in the skies 

To light thee to thy bower." 

Committee. — True and smooth as a locomotive on a " T " 
rail ! Is it sold and set ? 

Brigadier. — Beautifully set to music by Brown, and sold 
to Atwill, who will publish it immediately. 

Committee. — It's a delicious song, my happy troubadour, 
and destined to tumble over bright lips enough to make a 
sunset. That we should so envy the things we make ! My 
kingdom for a comb ! I shall never get the salt out of my 
hair — I'm 

" briny as the beaten mariner, 
Oft soused in swelling Tethys' saltish tears." 

If you want a curl to keep, now's your time ! 

Brigadier. — Willis ? 

Committee. — My lord ? 

Brigadier. — I hear you were voted in the " Light Guard" 
last week. 

Committee. — Yes, sir, an honorary private! I feel the 
compliment, for they are a set of tip- top capables, joyous and 
gentlemanly — but, my dear martinet, what the devil do they 
want of a man's dura mater ? 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. SH 

Brigadier. — A man's what ? 

Committee. — The weary membrane of an author's brain. 

Brigadier. — They want it, you say ? 

Committee. — With the official announcement came an order 
to equip myself according to directions, and " deposite my 
fatigue-jacket" in the armory of the corps ! What fatigue- 
jacket have I, but the jacket of my brain ? 

Brigadier. — True ! Pick up your boots and come along ? 

(Exit the brigadier barefoot, and the cabinet adjourns.) 



Half an hour later — room No. 300, Rockaway Pavilion. Two sherry 
cobblers on the table, with two straws, erect in the ice. 

Brigadier. — How like this great structure on the sand must 
be, to a palace amid the ruins of Persepolis ! 

Committee. — The palace of Chilminar with forty columns 
and stairs for ten horses to go up abreast ! — very like indeed 
— especially the sand ! Somewhat like, in another respect, by 
the way — that the palaces of Persepolis were the tombs of her 
kings, and Eockaway is the place of summer repose for the 
indignant aristocracy of Manhattan. 

Brigadier. — True, as to the aristocracy, but why " indig- 
nant ?" 

Committee. — That there can be fashion without them at 
Saratoga (which there could not be once), and that " aristo- 
cratic" and " fashionable" are two separate estates, not at all 
necessary to be combined in one individual. Eockaway is 
full, now, of the purest porcelain — porcelain fathers, porcelain 
mothers, porcelain daughters ! 



312 THE RAG-BAG. 



Brigadier. — Then why is not the society perfect at Bock- 
away ? 

Committee. — Because the beaux go after the crockery at 
Saratoga. The rush, the rowdydow, the flirtations and game 
suppers, are all at Saratoga ! Aristocracy likes to have the 
power of complaining of these things as nuisances inseparable 
from its own attraction. Aristocracy builds high walls, but 
it likes to have them pertinaciously overleaped. The^ being 
let alone within their high walls, as they are now at their ex- 
clusive watering-places, was not set down in the plans of aris- 
tocratic campaigns ! 

Brigadier. — But they are charming people here, mi-boy ? 

Committee. — The best-bred and most agreeable people in 
the world, but the others give a beau more for his money. 
In all countries, but ours, people make acquaintances for life. 
But the hinderances and obstacles which are not minded at 
the beginning of a lifetime acquaintance, are intolerable in an 
acquaintance for a week (the length of most summer acquaint- 
ances with us,) and the floating beaux from the south, the 
west, the Oanadas, and the "West Indies, go where they can 
begin at the second chapter — omitting the tedious preface and 
genealogical introduction. 

Brigadier. — Bockaway is stupid, then. 

Committee. — Quiet, not stupid. The lack of beaux and 
giddy times is only felt by the marriageable girls, and there 
are a great many people in the world besides marriageable 
girls. And upon this same " many people," will depend the 
prosperity of the Pavilion. When it is known that it is a 
delightful place for everything but flirting, it will be a centre 
for sober people to radiate to, and a paradise for penserosos 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 3I3 

like you and me, general — eh ? I suppose Cranston would as 
lief (liefer, indeed) that his rooms should be filled with tame 
people as wild. 

Brigadier. — How's your cobbler? 

Committee. — Fit to immortalize the straw that passes it ! 

Brigadier. — What birds are those, my "Willis ? 

Committee. — Shore birds that build in the sedge and feed 
on molluscous animals — death on the soft crabs ! And, gene- 
ral, do you know that the male of this bird (called the phala- 
rope,) is a most virtuous example to our sex ? What do you 
think he does ? 

Brigadier. — Feeds the little-uns ? 

Committee. — Hatches them, half and half, with the she-bird, 
and helps bring them up ! 

Brigadier. — Is the gender shown in the plumage ? 

Committee. — No. 

Brigadier. — So I thought. Your handsome peacock, now, 
leaves it all to the hen. The domestic virtues are their own 
reward — remarkably so ! Is that the dinner-bell ? 

Committee. — Yes, it is that music ! 

" Give me excess of it — that, surfeiting, 
The appetite may sicken, and so die." 

I'll meet you below, my dear general ! Adieu ! 

(Cabinet adjourns for the day.) 



14 



CONFAB V 



(Rockaway beach, Sunday evening. The brigadier and committee 
seated on their boot-legs, after walking two miles, barefoot, on the 
sand.) 

Brigadier. — Boots are durance vile, mi-boy I How much 
we lose in not keeping our feet open to female assiduities i 
Fancy one of those apostolic washings — a sweet woman kneel- 
ing before* you, and, with her hair breathing perfumes over 
}'our ankles, performing it as an office of tenderness and hos- 
pitality ! Can patent leather be weighed against desuetude 
so melancholy ! 

Committee. — I am satisfied that the tender pink in your 
toe-nails was intended by nature to be admired, my dear bri- 
gadier ! And there is nature's remonstrance — eloquent in^a 
corn — against the airless confinement of boot and stocking ! 
Why is a poet like a sandal ? 

Brigadier. — Philosophize, my dear boy, don't quibble ! 

(314) 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 315 



Committee. — Because he's a soul kept under with a thong ! 

Brigadier. — Willis, I love the sea ! 

Committee. — So sung Barry Cornwall, " the open sea." As 
if Pharaoh had not yet passed over ! To me the sea seems 
on the contrary, for ever slamming down trap- doors of surf, 
and carefully covering the "treasures of the deep" with 
cold water. I never saw anything less " open !" 

Brigadier. — There goes the sun down ! as red as — what 
shall I compare it to ? 

Committee. — A wafer, sealing up this 17th of August for 
the doomsday postoffice. Happy they who have not forgotten 
the P. 8. of repentance ! 

Brigadier. — Ah, mi-boy ! that pious infancy of yours ! It 
ozes through the after crust of your manhood in drops of 
poetry ! Pity you are less of a saint than you were at seven- 
teen ! 

Committee. — Less of a saint I am not, though more of a 
sinner I am. All I had seen at seventeen was beauty and 
'goodness, and with an innate sense of beauty and goodness I 
worshipped the Maker, my youth through, with a poet's ado- 
ration ! The heart melts and drops upon its knees within a 
man, at any sudden revelation of unusual loveliness ; and I 
have worshipped God, and loved one of his angelic creatures, 
with the white quivering lip of the same rush of blood inward. 
If to look often and adoringly " through nature up to nature's 
God " be devotion, I am still devout. No sunset, no morning's 
beauty, no rich and sudden sight of loveliness in scenery goes 
by without the renewal of that worship in my heart that was 
once religion, I praise God daily. • Worldling as I am, and 
hardly as I dare claim any virtue as a Christian, there is that 



316 THE RAG-BAG. 



within me which sin and folly never reached or tainted. The 
unprompted and irresistible thoughts, upsprings in my mind in 
any scene of beauty, would seem prayers, and pure ones, to 
many an humble Christian. Pardon me for reading to you 
this inner leaf, my dear brigadier ! 

Brigadier. — Thank you, on the contrary, for its philosophy, 
my dear boy ! Saints and wordlings have more feelings in 
common than the pulpit admits. That I believe. 

Committee. — The chasm between them in this world should 
be narrowed, for they have many sympathies. The bigot 
makes the separation unnaturally wide. "Who is the one man 
mentioned in Scripture as " loved " by the Saviour ? The 
" young ruler " who could not give up his " great possessions" 
<( to inherit eternal life !" Is not this tender interest in one 
" out of the fold," a lesson — a most unheeded lesson, to the 
strict sect ? I talk feelingly 01 tms, ior I have an admiration 
of goodness and purity that has never separated itself from my 
love of beauty. I love a simple and unobtrusive piety, and 
am drawn irresistibly toward the possessor. Yet this better 
part of my nature is excluded with the rest, when I am denied 
Christian sympathy. Come out of dream-land, brigadier, and 
observe the tender violet in that upper cloud ! 

Brigadier. — I was thinking whether the wave that falls upon 
the beach is to be congratulated or pitied — comparing its ar- 
rival, that is to say, with its " swell " time upon the sea. 

Committee. — Congratulated, I should say. The hoary locks 
with which it approaches the beach, though they are breakers 
ahead when seen from the sea, are beautiful when seen from 
the shore — as the head whitened with the dreaded troubles of 
life, grows more beautiful in the eyes of angels, as it is more 






EDITORIAL CONFABS. 317 

whitened and troubled, approaching heaven ! But 'what hypo- 
crites these shore-birds are, with their whitest plumes turned 
earthward ! See that dark-backed snipe on the beach, with 
his white-breast and belly ! 

Brigadier. — Rather what knowledge of mankind they have 
— preferring to keep their darker side for the more forgiving 
eye of heaven ! 

Committee. — True — the better reading ! Do you like snipe ? 

Brigadier. — With a pork shirt they are' fairish — that is, if 
you can't get woodcock. But, mi-boy, it isn't you that need 
ever eat snipe ! 

Committee. — As how ? 

Brigadier. — {Pulling out the Sunday Mercury and reading) 
— "Willis, it is said, has profited $5,000 D y the sale of the 
last edition of " Pencillings by the Way." 

Committee. — The mischief he has ! — for " has " read ivould 
be pleased to. Perhaps the editor of the Mercury will be kind 
enough to fork over the difference between fact and fiction ! 
By-the-way, I have read the book, myself, for the first time in 
eight years, and I have been both amazed and amused with the 
difference between what I saw then, and what I know now ! 
And I am going to give the public the same amazement and 
amusement, by writing for the Mirror a review of " Pencil- 
ling " with my new eyes — showing the interesting difference 
between first impressions and after familiarity. 

Brigadier.— They'll want to read " Pencillings" over again, 
mi-boy ! 

Committee.— For a hasty pudding it has held out surprising- 
ly already. The fifth edition, embellished with engravings, is 
still selling well in England, and in the most stagnant literary 



gig THE RAG-BAG, 



month of the year we have sold two editions, as you know. I 
am inclined to fear that I shall be less known by my careful 
writings than by this unrevised book — written between fatigue 
and sleep, by roadsides and in most unstudylike places, and 
republished in the Mirror edition, exactly as first written ! 
There is a daguerreotypity in literal first impressions, my dear 
general, and a man would write an interesting letter, the first 
moment after seeing the Colosseum for the first time, though a 
description from memory, a month after, would be very stupid. 
Did you ever feel posthumous, brigadier ? 

Brigadier. — No. I never was dead. Do you remember 
the first thought of " Pencillings," mi-boy — the oysters at 
Sandy Welch's, over which I offered to send you abroad? 
Committee. — Theodore Fay, you, and I, supping together ! 
Brigadier. — You have a way of knowing opportunity when 
you see it ! I little dreamed of so long a lease of you ! Dear 
Theodore ! how I should like to eat that supper over again ! 

Committee. — I am very glad it agreed with you (presuming 
it is me and Theodore you want over again — not the oysters !) 
They say Fay has grown fat, handsome and diplomatic. — 
When shall we have that sweet fellow back among us? 

Brigadier. — When they want the place for a green secretary, 
who knows nothing of the court or court language. As soon 
as a man has been long enough attached to a legation to be 
presentable and useful, they recall him ! What is that other 
letter I brought you ? 

Committee. — From a lady at Fishkill, who is dazzled with 
the upshoot of " Fanny Forester." She thinks Fanny's off- 
hand piquancy is easy to do, and the letter shows how much 
she is mistaken. I would fain say an encouraging word, how- 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 319 

ever, for she seems to have the best of motives for wishing to 
be literary. Now, is it kinder to discourage such beginners 
at once, or to encourage them good-naturedly into a delusion ? 
Brigadier. — Always discourage, mi-boy, for, if they have 
genius, they will prosper 

" like a thunder- cloud, against the -wind," 
and if they have none, they are better stopped where they are. 
How many heart-aching authoresses do we know at this 
moment, who can write just well enough to be wofully dis- 
tressed with the reluctance of the market ! The only style 
saleable is the spicy but difficult vein of bright Fanny Forester, 
and yet, to a neophyte, that very woof seems the easiest 
woven ! A woman who is more intelligent than the people 
around her, is very apt to believe that she might be famous, 
and make money with her pen ; and unless 

"Fair politure "walk all her body over, 
And symmetry rejoice in every part," 

she endeavors in this way to compensate herself for the lack 
of belleship. Better raise flowers and sell bouquets, dear 
Rosalie Beverly ! 

Committee. — The gray lace of twilight's star-broidered veil 
has fallen over the sea, brigadier. Let us paddle back through 
the surf-edge to the bathing-houses, boot, and reappear to a 
world (I don't think) disconsolate without us. 



CONFAB VI, 



(Shop-door, Ann street. The Brigadier and Committee standing^ 
sphinx-wise, outside.} 

Brigadier. — The " devil" was here just now for " copy," 
my dear boy ! 

Committee. — The devil here and no Fanny Forester ! We 
have given our readers a taste of this charming incognita^. 
brigadier, and now they'll not feast without her ! I wonder 
whether she's pretty ? 

Brigadier. — So would she be over-endowed. No, mi-boy ! 
I warrant that, with all her cleverness, she has envied, many 
a time, the doll of the village ! 

Committee. — A woman is, sometimes, wholly unadmired, 
who would become enchanting by a change of her surround- 
ings. That playful wit of Fanny Forester's, what-like shell 
soever it inhabits, would make her the idol of a circle of ap- 
preciators— for its work is in her face, someivhere ! Do you 

remember George Sand's description of one of her heroines ? 

(320) 



EDITOEIAL CONFABS. 321 

"Elle 6tait jolie par juxta-position. Heureuse, elle eut ete 
ravissante. Le bonheur est la poesie des femmes, comme la 
toilette en est le fard. Si la joi d'un bal eut reflate" ses teints 
rosees sur ce visage pale, si les douceurs d'une vie elegante 
eussent rempli, eussent vermillione ses joues deja legerement 
creus^es, si l'amour eut ranime.ses yeux tristes, elle aurait pu 
lutter avec les plus belles jeunes filles. II lui manquait ce qui 
cree une secondefois lafemme : — les chiffons et les billet-doux /" 

Brigadier — (ivho had gone in to escape the French quotation, 
and returned as the last word lingered 071 the committee's lips). 
— "Write a " billet-doux" to the next unrisen star, mi-boy, and 
ask her— (him, it, or her) — to shine first, like Fanny Forester, 
in the columns of the Mirror. I love the baptism of genius, 
and (modestly speaking) I have been the St. John in the 
wilderness of new writers. 

Committee. — Apostolic brigadier ! You do know a star, 
even " at the breast" — though from sucking poets deliver me 
mostly, oh, kind Heaven ! They exact a faith in their call 
and mission that precludes everything but the blindest and 
most acquiescent admiration. I remember my own difficult 
submissions to the corrections of the kind, but truthful and 
consistent critic of my youth, Buckingham of the Boston Cou- 
rier. He was always right, but it is hard, when your feathers 
are once smoothed down, to pluck out and re-stick them in 
your poetical peacockery ! Ah, juvenilities ! We build bridges 
over chasms of meaning, but they drop away behind us, as we 
pass over ! In Heaven, where there will be no grammar and 
dictionary, we shall have a new standard of excellence — 
thought. Here, it is thought's harness — language! What 
14* 



322 1,HE RAG-BAG. 






makes these people throw their potato-parings into the gutter, 
my dear general ? 

Brigadier. — Ann street, mi-boy, calls for the attention of 
Mayor Harper. The Mirror has a dainty nostril or two, and 
there are flower-pots in the windows opposite, and Burgess & 
Stringer keep the choicest of literary conservatories, yet we 
reside upon a rivulet of swill ! The simple enforcement of the 
law would sweeten things, but there is no police except for 
criminals in this land of liberty. Look at that brace of turtle- 
doves coming up-street ! What loving friendships women 
have, at an age when boys are perfect Ishmaelites. 

Committee. — Pardon me, my dear general, if I correct your 
cacology. • The sportsmen call two turtles a dule of turtles, 
not a brace. Though, by-the-way, T have not long been in 
possession of my learning upon that point. Let me read you 
a chapter on the nomenclature of such matters from this book 
in my hand. "Will you listen ? The book is " Goodman's 
Social History of Great Britain" — a gem of delightful read- 
ing :— 

" The stags which ran wild in the king's forests were named 
as early (if not earlier) as Edward III. (1307), from their ant- 
lers ; thus the first year the male is called a calf, second year 
a brocket, third year a spayer, fourth year a stag, fifth year a 
great stag, sixth year a hart of the first head. 

" In the notes of Sir "Walter Scott's ' Lady of the Lake,' is 
a curious account of the brytling, breaking up, or quartering 
of the stag. ' The forester had his portion, the hounds theirs, 
and there is a little gristle, called the raven's bone, which was 
cut from the brisket, and frequently an old raven was seen 
perched upon a neighboring tree, waiting for it. 



EDITORIAL CONFABS; 323 

" The fallow-deer, which are kept in the English parks, have 
also names, but not exactly the same as for stags. The males 
and the females the first year are called fawns, second year 
the females are called does, which name she always retains ; 
but the male is called a prickett ; third year he is called a 
shard ; fourth year a sword ; fifth year a sword-ell, or sorrell ; 
sixth year, a buck of first head; seventh year, a buck; eighth 
year, a full buck ; he is then fit for killing, and not before : 
and in the summer is very fat, which he loses in winter. 
Buck-venison is not fit to eat in winter, and ought not to be 
killed. 

" When beasts went together in companies, there was said 
to be a pride of lions, a lepe of leopards, a herd of harts, of 
bucks, and all sorts of deer ; a bevy of roes, a sloth of bears, 
a singular of boars, a sowndes of swine, a dryfte of tame 
swine, a route of wolves, a harass of horses, a rag of colts, a 
stud of mares, a pace of asses, a barren of mules, a team of 
oxen, a drove of kine, a flock of sheep, a tribe of goats, a sculk 
of foxes, a cete of badgers, a richess of martins, a fessynes of 
ferrets, a huske or a down of hares, a nest of rabbits, a clow- 
der of cats, a kendel of young cats, a shrewdness of apes, and 
a labor of moles. 

" When animals are retired to rest, a hart was said to be 
harbored ; a buck lodged ; a roebuck bedded ; a fox ken- 
nelled ; a badger earthed ; a hare formed ; and a rabbit 
seated, 

" Dogs which run in packs are enumerated by couples. If 
a pack of fox-hounds consist of thirty-six, which is an average 
number, it would be said to contain eighteen couples. 

" Dogs used for the gun, or for coursing, two of them are 



324 THE RAG-BAG. 






called a brace, three a leash ; but two spaniels, or harriers, are 
called a couple. They also say a mute of hounds, for a num- 
ber ; a kennel of raches, a cowardice of curs, and a litter of 
whelps. 

" ' The seasons for alle sortes of venery' were regulated in 
the otden time as follows : The ' time of grace' begins at mid- 
summer, and lasteth to holy-rood ; the fox may be hunted 
from the nativity to the annunciation of our lady ; the roebuck 
from Easter to Michaelmas; the roe from Michaelmas to Can- 
dlemas ; the hare from Michaelmas to midsummer ; the wolf, 
as the fox and the boar, from the nativity to the purification 
of our lady. 

" So for birds there is a vocabulary ; and first, for aquatic 
birds: a herd of swans, of cranes, and of curlews, a dropping 
of sheldrakes, a spring of teals, a serges of herons and bitterns, 
a covert of cootes, gaggles of geese, sutes of mallards, baddy- 
lynges of ducks. Now for meadow and upland birds : a con- 
gregation of plovers, a walk of snipes, a fall of woodcocks, a 
muster of peacocks, a nye of pheasants, a dule of turtles, a 
brood of hens, a building of rooks, a numeration of starlings, 
a flight of swallows, a watch of nightingales, a charm of gold- 
finches, flights of doves and wood-pigeons, coveys of part- 
ridges, bevies of quails, and exaltations of larks. 

" When a sportsman inquires of a friend what he has killed, 
the vocabulary is still varied ; he does not use the word pair 
— but a brace of partridges, or pheasants, a couple of wood- 
cocks ; if he has three of any sort, he says a leash. 

" If a London poulterer was to be asked for a pair of chick- 
ens, or a pair of ducks, by a female, he would suppose he was 
talking to some fine finicking lady's maid, who had so puck- 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 325 

ered up her mouth into small plaits before she started, that 
she co.uld not open it wide enough to say couple. 

"As the objects sportsmen pursue are so various, and as 
the English language is so copious, various terms have been 
brought into use : so that the everlasting term pair, this pair- 
ing of anything (except in the breeding-season) sounds so rude, 
uninstructive, and unmusical, upon the ears of a sportsman, 
that he would as soon be doomed to sit for life by the side of 
a seat-ridden cribbage-player as to hear it. 

" It is the want of this knowledge which makes the writings 
of Howitt and Willis, when they write upon this ever-interest- 
ing national subject, appear so tame ; the sportsman peruses 
their pages with no more zest than he listens to the babble of 
a half-bred hound, or ' a ranging spaniel that barks at every 
bird he sees — leaving his game.' " 

Mr. Goodman adds, in a note, the explanation of my blun- 
ders in dog-nomenclature : — 

" Mr. Willis, in vol. hi., p. 203, ' Pencillings by the Way,' 
gives the following information, speaking of the duke's grey- 
hounds (at Gordon Castle) : ' " Dinna tak' pains to caress them, 
sir," said the huntsman, " they'll only be hanged for it." I 
asked for an explanation. He then told me that a hound was 
hung the moment he betrayed attachment to any one, or in 
any way showed superior sagacity. In coursing the hare, if 
the dog abandoned the scent, to cut across or intercept the 
animal, he was considered as spoiling the sport. If greyhounds 
leave the track of the hare, either by their own sagacity, or to 
follow the master in intercepting it, they spoil the pack, and 
are hung without mercy.' Perhaps Mr. Willis will excuse 
me if I show how unsportsmanlike this is. In the first place, 



326 THE RAG-BAG. 



there are no packs of greyhounds ; in the next place, those 
who attend on them are not called huntsmen; in the next 
place, they never run by scent: if they did, they ought to be 
destroyed. As to the caressing, no dog ought ever to be 
caressed without he had first performed some extraordinary 
feat, and then it should be done instantly. The everlasting 
petting or patting a dog, spoils it in its nature, its disposition, 
its temper, and its habits. It becomes worthless, except as a 
lapdog, and that is the most contemptible and worthless thing 
in all God's creation. 

" Many years' close observation has convinced me, that 
where the dog is once admitted into the house, and petted, 
the dogs rule the children, and the children rule the rest ; 
bringing in its train all the usual concomitants of turbulence, 
filth, and frowsiness ; and turning the room into a dog-kennel, 

" ' If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then 
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.' " 

The correction is very right — thanks to Mr. Goodman. 
My attention was called to the blunder, by the duke of Gor- 
don himself, soon after the publication of the book in England ; 
and I should have corrected it in this new edition, but for 
determining not to read the proofs, that the letters might be 
published literally from the first copy. But what beautifully 
descriptive words are those in the nomenclature of birds, my 
dear general : " A xoatch of nightingales ! — a charm of gold- 
finches ! a numeration of starlings, and exaltations of larks !" 
How pretty it would be, instead of, " Here come two pretty 
women !" to say, " Here comes a charm of women !" Instead 
of, " There stand Morris and Willis !" to have the shoemaker 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 327 

opposite say, " Look at that pride of lions," or that " exalta- 
tion of editors !" 

Brigadier. — A "muster of peacocks" hits my fancy — de- 
scriptive, say, of two loungers in uniform ! Aha ! mi-boy ! — 
fine! 

Committee. — Most brigadierish of brigadiers ! You would 
rather be the sodger men have made you than the poet God 
made you ! So would not I ! 

Brigadier. — You rejoice in a destiny fulfilled, then ? 

Committee. — Quite the contrary. I mean to say that God 
made me a natural idler and trifier, and want made me a poet 
and a worky ; and unlike you, I would rather be what God 
made me. By-the-way, do you know the trouble there was 
in the first composing of a horse ? This same amusing book 
quotes from Fitzherbert's old book on agriculture : " A horse 
has fifty-four properties, viz : two of a man, two of a badger, 
four of a lion, nine of an ox, nine of a hare, nine of a fox, nine 
of an ass, and ten of a woman. This description has been 
somewhat altered, but perhaps not improved upon, viz : three 
qualities of a woman, a broad breast, round hips, and a long 
mane ; three of a lion, countenance, courage, and fire ; three 
of a bullock, the eye, the nostrils, and joints ; three of a sheep, 
the nose, gentleness, and patience ; three of a mule, strength, 
constancy, and good feet ; three of a deer, head, legs, and 
short hair ; three of a Wolf, throat, neck, and hearing ; three 
of a fox, ear, tail, and throat; three of a serpent, memory, 
sight, and cunning ; and three of a hare or cat, cunning, walk- 
ing, and suppleness." 



CONFAB VII. 



(Committee's private study. Brigadier lounging in a fauteuil.) 
Committee. — My dear general, what do you think, abstract! y, 
of industry ? Does no shuddering consciousness of awful pla- 
titude creep over you, in this dreadfully exemplary career that 
we are pursuing ? I feel as if the very nose on my face were 
endeavoring to " dress," as you military men say — striving to 
come down to the dull, cheek-bone level of tedious uniformity! 
I declare I should be pleased to " hear tell" of something out 
of the " way of business" — sentiment of some sort ! 

Brigadier. — Listen to a song that I have just written. 
There is a background of truth to it — the true sadness of a 
lovely living woman — that would supply your need of a sen- 
sation, if your imagination could picture her. 

Committee. — It shall ! Eead away, my friend ! 
(Brigadier reads.) 



Committee. — That is a peculiarly musical and engaging 

(328) 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 320 

measure, and you have bung it upon hinges of honey. It 
smacks of the days when poets wrote a song a year, finishing, 
to the last vanishing point of perfection. What do the women 
say to you for translating their prose into angel-talk ? 

Brigadier. — They love poetry, mi-boy ! The more poetical 
you can make their life, the more they love life and you I 
They would rather suffer than live monotonously. So", be- 
ware the " even tenor !" 

Committee. — Even of prosperity, eh ? I'll beware when I 
see it coming ! 

Brigadier. — Ah, mi-boy, you have no idea of the intense 
abstraction of mind necessary to bring a poetical imagination 
down to habits of business. 

Committee. — Do you really wish to Know what is to be the 
new rage in society this winter ? 

Brigadier. — What ? 

Committee. — Married belles ! The 'teens dynasty is passing 
away ! The talk, this summer, at all the watering places, has 
been of beautiful women, who (if, perchance, they have loveljt 
out their love) have not shone out their shine ! Heavens ! — 
how many there are completely shelved in American society 
who have never had more than two winters of vogue in the 
world, and who are compelled to believe that, out of thirty 
years of loveliness, only two are to be rescued from the nursery 
■ — only two to intervene between the nursery filial andihe nurse- 
ry maternal ! What a utensil woman is, in this way ! For 
what did Heaven give them their other powers ? Heaven did 
not put the smile of woman under her arm ! No ! it was 
placed where it could not be covered without suffocation, and, 
doubtless, with a purpose : — that the lips and their outgoing 



£30 THE RAG-BAG. 



should be kept open to society ! Till those lips fade — till the 
mind that speaks through them loses its playfulness and at- 
traction, women cannot be monopolized without a manifest 
waste of the gifts of nature — making that bloom for two years 
only, that was constructed to bloom for forty ! Besides — 
those very charms are withdrawn from the world before ripen- 
ing—flowers permitted only to bud ! There never was a 
belle who was not more agreeable after marriage than before. 
An unripe mind is far less agreeable than a ripe one. The ele- 
gant repose of lovely married women is far more enchanting 
than the hoydenish romping or inexperienced sentiment of 
girls. Speak up, brigadier ! What say ? 

Brigadier. — It is highly natural, mi-boy, that this change 
should be coming about noio ! But it was both natural and 
necessary that, hitherto — in the unornamental foundation of 
American society, woman should be reduced to her simple 
primitive mission — shining like the glowworm, only long 
enough to attract the male. When married, she passed into 
•the condition of an operative in a nation-factory — a working 
mother, a working educatress, a working patriot-maker. Her 
whole time was then needed for offices that are now performed 
— (all but the first) by schools, moral teachers, surrounding 
example, and national routine. Lubricate the child now with 
money, and it will slide on to manhood over an inevitable 
railroad of education and good influences. Of course, the 
mother is now at liberty to shine as long as nature feeds the 
lamp ; and, indeed, it is in this way, only, that she can fulfil her 
destiny — dispensing elsewhere the sweet influences- no longer 
needed exclusively by her children. 

Committee. — Statesmanlike and pellucid ! Well, sir, this 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 331 



great national metamorphosis is now coming about ! It has 
been secretly resolved, among the young married men of New 
York, that there shall exist, this winter, & post- connubial belle- 
ocracy\ and that married belles shall, accordingly, have the 
pas, in waltz, quadrille, promenade, and conversation. How 
delicious ! — isn't it ? It enlarges the field so ! I believe, 
general, that I, for one, shall " cast my slough," and try my 
youth on again ! 

" For when the life is quickened, out of doubt, 
The wits that were defunct and dead before, 
Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move 
With casted slough and fresh legerity,' 

and who knows? I may be agreeable in the reformed baby- 
house of society ! 

Brigadier. — "Hope on — hope ever !" 



CONFAB VIII. 



(Committee and Brigadier, in confidential session.) 

Committee. — My dear general, it won't do ! Read these 
two letters ! 

Brigadier. — I won't waste my eyes with them ! It must 
do ! who says it won't do ? 

Committee. — One Noggs. 

Brigadier. — Who's Noggs ? 

Committee. — By Jove, he writes a capital letter ! Hear this, 
my incensed brigadier ! — (reads.) 

" Dear "Willis : You frightened me to-day, terribly, in the 
hint you threw out in the course of conversation with the 
' brigadier,' to wit : ' Shall we make it into a monthly ?' 

" Make the Weekly New Mirror into a monthly ! God 
forbid ! I forbid, anyhow. ' Who are you ?' I am a live 
Yankee, at your service, who lives in the land of soles and 
codfish, whig pow-wows and democratic clam-bakes — one who 

(332) 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 333 



.has not been so ' decorously brought up,' perhaps as some of 
your readers, but - a man for a' that' — a constant reader of 
the Mirror, at any rate — -proof of my manhood, eh ? 

Weil, sir, I, Newman Noggs, Esq., of Lynn, county of Es- 
sex, etc., etc., do hereby seriously and ardently protest against 
any such nonsense as is implied in the above question. Excuse 
me, sir, but I couldn't help it. I feel so worked up at the 
bare idea of the visits of the Mirror coming only monthly, 
that I can hardly stick to decency. Why, sir, I shouldn't be 
in trim for my sabbath-day meeting — albeit a pious man am I 
— were it not for the ' preparatory' study in the Mirror, Sa- 
turday nights. Not that you are so dreadfully religious, but 
there is always sure to be something in you that makes me feel 
better, and when I feel ' better' I want to go to church, of 
course, to let myself and the world know that I'm getting kind 
o' good. As for the literary merits of the Mirror, it don't 
become the like o' me to be offering an opinion. All I've got 
to say is, that I l individually' like it first-rate. There's a sort 
of racy, spicy, off-hand, unstudied wittiness about it that takes 
my eye amazingly. So, for God's sake, or more particularly 
for my sake, dear Willis, don't ye change it. Suppose it does 
cost some folks a little more for postage than it would for 
something else — what o' that ? Who's afraid of a cent or two ? 
I'm a poor man 'long side o' some folk, and yet I rather pay 
letter-postage than have it stop. So, Willis dear, just tell your 
postage friends to" economize in some other department, or, if 
they can't do that, tell 'em I'll make it up to 'em. 

" No, no, friend of my early youth, don't think of any such 
thing, that is, if ye love me — for I could better spare — some- 
thing better, than the piquant dish of conversation which 



g34 THE RAG-BAG. 



weekly (oh, let it be ever weekly) occurs between ' mi-boy' and 
our dearly-beloved general, the ' brigadier.' 

" Mrs. Noggs, too — a strong woman, by the way — is, never- 
theless, iveekly on this point, very. She says she'll never for- 
give you if you change the fair form of the Mirror. Think o' 
that ! though not a vain woman, she has a passion for looking 
into the Mirror that is very affecting. On the other hand, she 
says if you'll give up the horrid notion of changing the form 
of the Mirror, she'll fry you ' a nipper' 1 as brown as a nut, 
with her own fair hands, when next you come Bostonward, 
and will visit our humble cottage near the sea. I have ye 
now ! For, my well-tried friends, Gentleman Charles (him of 
the Astor house, I mean) and his handsome partner, tell me 
you are a gallant youth and well affected toward the ladies. 

" We shall look anxiously in the next Mirror to find our 
anxious hopes confirmed, and, if not disappointed, shall hence- 
forth, as in duty bound, ever pray for your everlasting welfare, 
world without end. 

" Yours till then, Noggs." 

Committee. — I have had twenty letters the last week (none 
as good as that, but) all to the same purpose ! I am inclined to 
think, general, that Heaven's first periodical (Sunday) was ar- 
ranged in accordance with some revolution of our mental nature, 
and that once in seven days, as it is good to rest, so it is good 
to read, or grieve, or go love-making. Friends dine together 
once a week, making friendship a weekly periodical. Lovers 
of nature in cities ride to the country once a week. We eat 
a boiled dinner once a week. Everybody in New England 
needs beans once a week. The weather comes round once a 
week — fair Sundays and wet Sundays coming in successive 



EDITOEIAL CONFABS. 335 

dozens. There is nothing agreeable in nature that is monthly, 

except the moon, and the very sight of that periodical put 
people to sleep ; 

Brigadier. — The subject troubles me, mi-boy! Let us 
change it. I've a funny communication here, from a Rip Van 
Winkle, who dates fifty years hence, and — 

Committee. — Keep it till next week, general, and let us get 
into the fresh air. I'm manuscript sick. Attons ! Stay — ■ 
while I mend my outer man a little, read this funny letter, sent 
me by the lady to whom it was written. She thinks her 
friend, young ' Cinna Beverly,' is a genius. 

Brigadier reads with an occasional laugh. 

" TO MISS PHCEBE LOHN. 

a Dear Bel-Phcebe : I have been ' twiddling my sunbeam' 
(you say my letters are ' perfect sunshine') for some time, more 
or less, in a quandary as to what is now resolved upon as 
Dear Bel-Phcebe' — the beginning of this (meant-to-be) fault- 
less epistle. I chanced to wake critical this morning, and, 
' dear Phoebe,' as the begining of this letter of mine, looked 
both vulgar and meaningless, I inked it out as you see. A 
reference to my etymological dictionary, however, restored 
my liking for that ' dear' word. It is derived from the Anglo- 
Saxon verb Der-ian, which means to do mischief. Hence 
dearth, which, by doing mischief, makes what remains more 
precious, and hence dear, meaning something made precious by 
having escaped hurting. ' Dear Phoebe,' therefore (meaning 
unhurt Pha.be) struck me as pretty well — you being one of 
those delicious, late-loving women, destined to be ' hurt' first 
at thirty. Still, the sacred word ' Phoebe' was too abruptly 
come upon. It sounded familiar, and familiarity should be 



336 THE RAG-BAG. 



reserved for the postscript. I should have liked to write ' dear 
Lady Phoebe,' or ' dear Countess Phoebe' — but we are not 
permitted to ' read our title clear,' in this hideously simple 
country. Might I invent an appellative ? "We say char-woman 
and horse-man — why not put a descriptive word before a 
lady's name, by way of respectful distance. Phoebe Lorn is 
a belle — why not say Bel- Phoebe? Good! It sounds 
authentic. This letter, then, is to Phce.be, unhurt and beavti- 
ful (alias,) ( Dear Bel-Phoebe !' 

" You are an ephemeron of a month — the month at Sara- 
toga, in which you get wings to come forth from your eleven 
months' chrysalis in the country — and you are now once more 
' gathered to your fathers,' and mourning over the departed 
summer ! Your Arabian mare feels your thrilling weight 
again, and you astonish your pet cow with sponge cake over 
the lawn fence, and give caraways- to your top-knot hens, and 
say ' Sir' to your greyhound, and make-believe care for your 
dahliahs and tuberoses — but the pleasantest part of the day, 
after all, is its heavenly twilight of closed eyelids, when you 
can live over again that month at Saratoga — myself, perhaps, 
then, cursorily-remembered ! Por you rejoice in the perils of 
love, unhurt and adorable Phoebe. 

" But you know enough about yourself and you wish to 
hear about the town ! Well ! — the flies are numb with the 
first frost, the window-blinds are open nearly to Union square, 
somebody has been seen with a velvet waistcoat, starch is 
1 looking up,' and the town is full of palmetto-hatted and 
ready-made-clothing-ized southerners. By these data judge 
of the epoch. I, myself, am among my dusted household gods, 
and, at this moment (writing in my bed-room) see my boots 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 337 

phalanxed in their winter parade. I must say it is, so far, 
pleasant ! Perhaps — but you want news, not the philosophy 
of boots in repose. 

" You heard of the marriage of one of our wild Indians to 
an English girl, not long ago in London. She has been at 
the Waverley some days, and has excited no little curiosity. 
She is moderately handsome, but in such an unusual style 
of beauty that she out-magnetizes many a more strictly beau- 
tiful woman. My vaurien friend, E., the artist, (who chanced 
to dine opposite the chief and chief-ess at the table d'hote a 
day or two since) declares the face to be wholly unique, and a 
sufficient explanation of the extraordinary whim of her mar- 
riage. I have never, myself, wondered at it. The crust, 
impenetrable upward, of English middle life, is enough to 
drive genius of any kind more mad than this ! "What hell like 
inevitable mediocrity in anything ! This fine woman, now 
going to live a dog's life with an Indian in the wilderness, 
would have spent her days in a brick row, and grown idiotic 
with looking out upon the same sidewalk till death. Which 
would you rather ? 

" Do you remember (for beautiful women don't always re- 
member beautiful women) the adorable Mrs. C, at Saratoga 
— that charming specimen of a healthy and practicable angel ? 
She has been here a week on her return from Niagara, and 
Elagg, the beauty-painter, has stolen a copy of her on can- 
vass. Ah, Bel-Phoebe ! You have a loss in not realizing 
what it is to a man when an exquisite face holds still to be 
critically admired ! You can see the grain of the velvet in 
her brown eye, now, and trace by what muscle her heart 
pulls, to keep down that half-sad corner of her delicious 
15 



338 THE RAG-BAG. 



mouth. He is an appreciator, that Flagg, and paints a wo- 
man as she looks to appreciators — differently from the 
butchers'-meat estimation of common gazers on "beauty. Mrs. 
C. has gone to Baltimore, where beauty is an indigenous drug 
belles of that ' city rich in women' being never valued till 
transplanted. But heavens ! how tired you will be of reading 
this long female paragraph ! Hasten to speak of something 
with a man in it ! 

" One of the most fascinating men in England is ekeing out 
an exile from May fair, by singing and lecturing on songs to 
the delighted Croton drinkers. He is a man of that quiet 
elegance of address that seems nothing in a woman's way till 
she has broken her neck over it, and he sings as such a man 
shouldn't — to be a safe man, that is to say ! Fancy Moore's 
songs any more bewitched than Moore intended ! Mr. 
McMichael's voice glides under your heart like a gondola 
under a balcony — Moore's melody representing the embel- 
lished and enriched moonlit water. It is the enchanted per- 
fection of lover-like, and gentleman-like song singing. I heard 
Moore sing his own songs in England, and Mr. McMichael 
sings them in the same style — only in apotheosis ! (Ask your 
papa to translate that big word.) 

" Do you care about theatres ? "We have a new tragedian, 
about whose resemblance to Macready the critics are quarrel- 
ing, and a new tragedian-ess, who has put the boxes into fits 
by coming on the stage without a — ■ — bustle ! Eancy Desde- 
mona without a bustle !) Of course you are surprised, for 
this is one of these ' coming events' that could not possibly 
' cast their shadows before,' but fashion is imperative, and 

* "Where ruled the {bustle) Nature broods alone V 



EDITORIAL CONFABS; 339 

I understand the omnibuses are to be re-licensed to carry four- 
teen inside, and the shops in Broadway are petitioning (so 
Alderman Cozzens told me to-day) to put out bow-windows, 
in expectation of the vacated space. 

" Seriously, there has been a growing mistrust (Pearl-street- 
ingly speaking) of the article woman, as shown to customers ! 
Thank fashion, there is more chance now of a poor youth's 
knowing the (' ground covered by the imposing obligations of 
matrimony !') 

" Hast thou great appetite, and must I vouchsafe thee still 
another slice of news? The new hotel up-town is waxing 
habitable, and the proprietor is in a quandary what to call it. 
The natural inquiry as to what would be descriptive, has sug- 
gested a look at the probabilities of custom, and it is supposed 
that it will be filled partly with that class of fashionables who 
feel a desire to do something in life besides laboriously ' keep 
house,' partly by diplomatists and dandies wishing to be ' con- 
vaynient' to balls and chez-elles, and partly by such European- 
ized persons as have a distaste for American gregariousness, 
and desire a voice as to the time and place of refreshing and 
creature. The arrangements are to surpass any previous cis- 
Atlantic experience, and the whole project is considered as 
the first public flower of the transplanted whereabout of aris- 
tocracy. It has been proposed to call it May Pair. Hotel — 
' May Fair' being the name of the fashionable nucleus of Lon- 
don. Hauteville Hotel has been suggested, descriptive of 
its position up-town. Hotel Recherche, Hotel Choisi, are 
names proposed also, but more liable to criticism, I, myself, 
proposed A l'abi — as signifying a house aside from the rush 
of travel and business. Praise that, if you please ! Billings, 



340 THE RAG-BAG. 



the lessee, is a handsome man, of a very up town address, with 
the finest teeth possible for the welcome to new-comers— this 
last no indifferent item ! He is young — but young people are 
the fashion. ' Young England ' and ' Young Prance' wield 
the power. I have not mentioned the system of the hotel, by 
the way, which is that of Meurice's at Paris — a table-cPhote and 
a restaurant, and dinner in public, or private, or not at all, at 
your option. Charming — won't it be ? 

" Crawford, the sculptor, has come home from Italy, and, 
as' he is the American, par excellence, in whom resides the 
sense of beauty, I trust he may see you. 

" "What else had I to say ? Something — but I'll write it on 
a slip, for it will be personal, and you like to show all your 
letters to ' the governor.' 

" Adieu, dear Bel-Phoebe, and pray tear up the slip enclosed 
as soon as you have recovered from fainting. Yours at dis- 
cretion, Cinna Beverley, jr." 



CONFAB IX. 

(after the opera.) 



{Supper in 184's room at the Astoi — the brigadier here " on business" 
— a poulet pique, and a bottle of champagne in silver tissue paper, 
also here " on business" — Eleven O'Clock, Esq., just parting from 
the bell of St. Paul's, with a promise to be " round in the morning") 

Brigadier, (nodding, and taking up his glass). — Mi-boy ! 

184 {laying his hand on the generaVs arm). — Not in such 
profane haste, my prompt sodger! That glass of wine is the 
contemporary of bliss — sent to us to be drank to the health of 
a bride, now three hours past the irrevocable gate. 

Brigadier. — Married at eight? Do you say that? God 
bless her, in a bumper ! (gazes abstractedly into the bottom of 
the glass $ and speaks musingly.) — Ten minutes past eleven ! — 
Well, who's the lady, and who the happy man ? 

184. — One of our parish, who, though he does not person- 
ally know us, wishes us to be made aware of his happiness. 

(341) 



342 THE BAG-BAG; 



"We have written ourselves into his bosom. God bless him 
for the loving door in his eye — isn't so, my tree-sparer ! So 
may all men take us in ! Try a bit of chicken now, general, 
or that tear in your eye will fall back on an empty stomach ! 

Brigadier. — And what a difference it makes — what it falls 
back upon, mi-boy ! The salt in a tear is not natural, depend 
on it, or the in'ards would take to it more kindly. "What an 
etiquette of mercy it would be, now, to make pathos and bad 
news matters of full-dress — never to be alluded to in good 
society, till a man has ceased, as Menenius says, " to pout 
upon the morning !" What's your to-morrow's leader ? 

184. — Not coming to business at the second glass, I hope? 
Fie on you for a disrespect to the bride. {The brigadier 
blushes, and covers his confusion by reading the label on the bot- 
tle.) How enchantingly old Belisario and his captive sung 
their vows of friendship to-night ! Ah, music and lights ! — 
things are so much finer for embellishing ! Our small friend- 
ship now, general — brought forward to the prompter's cup- 
board and foot-lights — do you think it would be encored, like 
that? 

Brigadier. — As you don't ask for information, mi-boy, let's 
proceed to business. Can you give me an idea of your to- 
morrow's editorial? 

184.— No ! 

Brigadier. — And the boy is to come for it at seven ! 

184 {seizing a pen) — What shall it be ? 

Brigadier. — Why, there's the mud in the streets — and the 
Bohemian Girl — and the wretched weather — and the mena- 
gerie — and Vandenhoff — and Stuart's candy-shop — and Mrs. 
Coles — 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 



343 



184. — By — the — by ! — a discovery ! — Tryon ought to head 

his play-bills with the Marsellois war-cry — " to arms ! to 

arms !" I never saw a pair in my life more exquisitely 
moulded and polished than Mrs. Coles's, of the Bowery cir- 
cus — as shown after her third undoing on horseback. It takes 
a symmetrical woman, of course, to stand tiptoe upon a flying 
horse, and strip, from a jacketed Cracovienne to a short- 
sleeved evening dress — but ladies of this vocation, well made 
in all other respects, are usually thin from the elbow to the 
shoulder. Shall I make a " leader" of Mrs. Coles ? 

Brigadier. — Certainly not, mi-boy, nor a follower either. 
Just indicate, as it were — call attention mysteriously — hint 
somehow — that there is a part of the equestrian performance 
that reminds you of things you saw in Italy — statuary or 
something — delicately, mi-boy — very delicately. What else 
have you got down there in your memorandum-book ? 

184. — Half a dozen topics. Here's a note that smells of 
" above Bleecker," requesting us to implore of Japonica-dom 
not to give parties on opera-nights. Really, they should not ! 
The opera is a rare luxury, without which a metropolis is like 
a saloon without a mirror, and there should be a little combi- 
nation, among refined people — if not to give it extra support, 
at least to throw no hinderance in its way. They do this in 
London — (where, by the way, there are but two operas a 
week, and it would be quite enough here) — Lady Blessington, 
for one, never " at home" on opera nights, and dinner-parties 
are given at an earlier hour to release people in time. The 
quality of the opera depends, of course, on its enthusiastic 
support, and those who can appreciate it can do no less, I 
think, than to go in full dress, and go habitually It is far 



S4 a THE RAG-BAG. 



pleasanter than a party, is over at bearable bed-time, and, 
just now, the company at Palmo's is too good to be slighted. 
And, by the way, have you thought how gloriously Pico has 
beggared the loud trumpet we blew for her on her first ap- 
pearance ? " Ants," says the old proverb, " live safely till 
they have gotten wings, and juniper is not thrown away till it 
hath gotten a high top." She is neither your ant nor your 
juniper-blossom — is she general ? 

Brigadier {ioho has been dozing.) — Not my aunt, mi-boy, 
whoever you're talking of. I never had one — hope I never 
shall. 

184. — "What's that note falling out of your pocket, mean- 
time ? 

Brigadier. — Well thought of — I brought it to you for a 
paragraph. What do you think it is ? A complaint from 
the ladies that the young men waylay them on the staircases ! 

184. — Heavens and Sabines! wait till I dip my pen in the 
thunder-stand! Who? How? When? How many ? 

Brigadier. — At parties — at parties — my dear boy — don't be 
violent. This lady declares {brigadier opens the note) that it 
is a " perfect nuisance, the mere descent from the dressing 
room to the ball-room" — " a pretty girl has to come down a 
perfect ladder of boys — every stair an engagement to dance" 
— " no chance for a pick" — " her mind fatigued with the effort 
to remember her partners" — " no hope of dancing with a 
grown-up man from Christmas to April" — " green talk alto- 
gether" — " dreadful sense of unripeness" — " no subject but 
Pico and Polk • " — " begs we will write the boys off the stair- 
case," etc. etc. You see your subject. 

184. — Shall I tell you why that was not written by a wo- 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 34.5 



man ? Don't you see that if this system of long lists of en- 
gagements were done away, a lady would have no escape 
from a disagreeable partner — no plea of too many engage- 
ments — no chance for a lie whiter than many a truth ? Don't 
you see, that (now duelling is laughed at) a lady can 
leave out an early partner on the list, or slip a tardy one in, 
with perfect ease and comfort — distressing nobody's mamma 
with fears of Hoboken ! Leave the ladies alone for putting 
down troublesome usages ! Your letter was written by some 
old coxcomb going out of fashion, who can get nobody to 
dance with him, and lays it to the boys on the staircase ! Tut ! 

Brigadier.— Twelve o'clock, and where's your leader 1 Oh, 
mi-boy, think of tomorrow's paper ! 

184. — Hang the leader ! Let's go without it — once in a way. 

Brigadier — Gracious, no ! What will the public say 1 
There goes one o' clock ! Bed-time (for me — not for you) — 
and nothing from you for the boy in the morning ! Oh, mi- 
boy, sit up ! Go and wash your face^ and feel fresh. Write 
a paragraph requesting the Mirror brides to send their cham- 
pagne, hereafter, exclusively to the talking partner. Where's 
my hat ? Get inspired, mi-boy, get inspired. Good night. 

184.- — Stay — stay — stay. Listen to this ! (184 reads the 
foregoing dialogue to the brigadier, tvhose face gradually re- 
sumes its tisual serene placidity. He lays doivn his hat, and 
picks another wing of the chicken.'). 

Brigadier. — And you have been writing this down, all the 
time, with your hand deep in that old cabinet ! Bless me, 
what a boy you are for expedients. I thought you was 
scratching autographs, or writing " Pico," or sketching Glen- 
mary, or something ! But you haven't mentioned the weekly. 

15* 



346 THE RAG-BAG. 






184. — Poh ! it doesn't want mentioning. 

Brigadier. — Not more than the sun and moon, and other 
periodicals — but you trust the world's memory too much, my 
worky ! They'd forget the sun shone if it wasn't down in the 
almanac. Say something ! 

184. — Well, let's see ! It's our diary of the world's goings- 
on and what we think of it — published every seventh day. It 
is a week's corn, ground, sifted, and bagged, for those who 
can't go to mill every day. It is a newspaper without the 
advertisements and other trumpery — at half price, in conse- 
quence of lumber left out, and one postage instead of seven. 
It is edited every day, and other weeklies are edited once a 
week. It gives the news, the fashions, the fun, the accidents, 
the operas, and our all-spice to make it keep, in a handsome, 
preservable shape — bindable for reference and re-reading — 
" the times" as it were, " boned and potted." Shall I say 
any more ? 

Brigadier. — Three dollars a year — 

184. — Mum, man ! Never mention money after midnight. 
"What will the angels say? Go to bed — go .to bed. {Exit 
brigadier, after a silent embrace.) 



CONFAB X. 



SUPPER AFTER THE OPERA, 



Private room over the Mirror office, corner of Ann and Nassau — Sup- 
per on the round table, and brigadier mixing summat and water — 
Flagg, the artist, fatiguing the salad with a paper-folder — Devil in 
waiting — Quarter past ten, and enter "Yours Truly" from the opera. 

Brigadier. — Here he comes, like a cloud dropping from 
Olympus — charged with Pico-tricity ! Boy (to the u devil"), 
slick a steel pen in my hat for a conductor ! Now — let him 
rain ! 

Flagg. — Echo — let him reign ! 

Yours Truly — (looking at the salad-dish.) — Less gamboge 
for me, if you please, my dear artist ! Be merciful of mustard 
when you mix for public opinion ! But, nay ! brigadier ! 

Brigadier. — Thank you for not calling on me to bray, mi- 
boy ! What shall I neigh at ? 

Yours Tnoly. — How indelicate of you to call on an artist to 
exercise his profession on a party of pleasure ! 

Brigadier. — How ? 

(347) 



348 TRE BAG-BAG. 



Yours Truly. — Setting him to grind colors in a salad-dish ! 
"What are you tasting with that wooden ladle, my periodical 
sodger ? 

Brigadier. — Two of (( illicit " to one of Croton — potheen 
from a private still in the mountains of Killarny ! Knowles 
sent it to me ! You have no idea what a flavor of Kate Kear- 
ney there is about it ! — (fmff ! fmff!) 

Flagg — [absently). — I smell the color of the heath-flowers in 
it — crocus-yellow on a brown turf! 

Brigadier. — Stick a pin there, mi-boy! — a new avenue to 
the brain for things beautiful ! Down with privileged roads 
in a republic ! "Why should the colors mixed for a limitless 
sense of beauty go in only at the eye ? 

Flagg. — No reason why. I wish we could hear colors ! 

Brigadier. — So you can, my inspired simplicity ! and taste 
them, too ! You can hear things that are read, and you can 
taste the brown in a turkey ! ( Turning to Yours Truly) — 
Was that well said, my dear boy ? 

Yours Truly. — Pardon me if I suggest still an improvement 
in the aristocracy of the senses ! The eye has a double door 
of fringed lids, and the mouth an inner door of fastidious 
ivory ; and, with the power to admit or exclude at will, these 
are the exclusive organs ! The republicans are the nose and 
ear — open to all comers, and forced to make the best of them ! 

Flagg. — A new light, by Jupiter ! Let us pamper the aris- 
tocracy ! An oyster for my ivory gate, if you please, general, 
and let us spite the ear's monopoly of Pico by drinking her in 
silence ! ( ) 

Brigadier. — ( ) 

Yours Truly. — ( ) 



EDITOEIAL CONFABS. 349 



Brigadier. — Touching Pico — is she, or isn't she 1 — you 
know what I want to know, my boy ! Disembowel your men- 
tal oyster ! What ails Borghese ? What is a " contralto ?" 
Is it anything wrong — or what ? 

Yours Truly. — A contralto, my particular general, is a 
voice that touches bottom — rubs your heart with its keel, as 
it were, while floating through you — comparing with a soprano, 
as the air on a mountain-top compares with a breeze from 
lower down. 

Brigadier. — Best possible description of yourself, mi-boy ! 
Go on, my contralto ! 

Flagg. — Yes— go on about Borghese — what is the philoso- 
phy of Borghese's salary being the double of Pico's? 

Yours Truly. — Ah ! now you touch the weight that keeps 
Borghese down ! The public, like yourself, ask why the prima- 
donna who gives them the more pleasure is the poorer paid ! 
Borghese — but first let me tell you what I think of her, com- 
parison apart. (Boy, light a cigar-, and keep it going with 
the bellows, a la pastille ! I like the smoke, but to talk with 
a cigar in the mouth spoils the delicacy of discrimination.) 

Brigadier.^- Spare us the scientific, mi-boy ! 

Yours Truly. — Why, what do you mean ? I am as igno- 
rant of music, my dear sodger, as an Indian is of botany — 
but he knows a weed from a flower, and I talk of music as the 
audience judge of it — by what I hear, " mark, and imwardly 
digest." 

Brigadier. — But the big words, my dear contralto ! 

Yours Truly. — " Foreign slip slops," I grant you — but 
nothing more ! — I lived three years in Italy, and, of course, 
heard Italian audiences express themselves, and here and there 



350 TH-E RAG BAG - 



a phrase sticks to me— but if I know " B sharp" from " ~BflaV 
(which is more than some musical critics know,) it is the extent 
of my knowledge. No, general ! there is no sillier criticism 
of music than technical criticism. You might as well paint 
cannon-balls piebald and then judge of their effect by remem- 
bering which color showed through the touch-hole before 
priming ! Notes go to the ear ; effects shower the nerves. A 
musician who is a critic, judges of a prima-donna by the accu- 
racy with which she imitates what he (the musician) has played 
on an instrument — like a tight-rope dancer criticising his bro- 
ther of the slack-rope, because he don't swing over the pit ! 
Analyze the applause at an opera ! There are, perhaps, ten 
persons in a Palmo audience who are scientific musicians. 
These ten admire most what they can most exclusively admire 
— rapid and (difficult passages what the Italians call florituri, 
or " flourishes") executed with the most skilful muscular effort 
of the vocal organs. These ten, however, pass over, as very 
pleasant accidents of the opera, the part which pleases the rest 
of the audience — the messa di voce — the tender expression of 
slower notes which try the sweetness of the voice — the abso- 
luteness of the "art concealing art," and which, more than all, 
betrays the personal sensibility and quality of the actress's mind. 
My dear brigadier, true criticism travels a circle, and ends 
where it began — ivith nature. But as the art of the prima- 
donna brings her to the same point, the unscientific audience 
are most ivith the most skilful prima-donna — nearer to a just 
appreciation of her than musicians are. 

Brigadier. — Now I see the reason I am so enchanted with 
Pico, mi-boy ! I was afraid I had no business to like her — 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 351 

as I didn't know Italian music! What a way you have of 
making me feel pleasant ! 

Yours Truly. — Pico has enchanted the town, brigadier! 
and I have endeavored to put the flesh and blood of language 
to the ghost of each night's enchantment. That ghost of re- 
membrance sticks by us through the next day, and I thought 
it would be agreeable to the Mirror readers to have the im- 
pression of the music recalled by our description of it. Have 
I done it scientifically ? Taste forbid ! — even if I knew how ! 
I interpret for " the million" — not for " the ten." 

Flagg. — But about Borghese ! 

Yours Truly. — "Well — I have a great deal to say about Bor- 
ghese — I have a great deal of the " flesh and blood" I just 
spoke of, in reserve for Borghese ; but I shall follow a strong 
public feeling, and not clothe her enchantments with language, 
till she slacks her hold upon the purse-strings, and shares 
equally, at least, with the donna whom the public prefer. 
There goes the brigadier — fast asleep ! Good night, gentle- 
men ! {Exit " Yours Truly.") 



CONFAB "XI. 

BREAKFAST ON NEW YEAR'S DAY. 

Astor house, No. 184 — nine o'clock in the morning — breakfast for two 
on the table— enter the brigadier. 

Brigadier. {Embracing " ws.")— Mi-boy ! GOD BLESS 
YOU!! 

" We." ( With his hand to his forehead.) — "With what a sculp- 
tured and block-y solidity you hew out your benedictions, my 
dear general ! You fairly knock a man over with blessing him ! 
Sit down and wipe your eyes with that table-napkin. 

Brigadier. — "Well — how are you ? 

" We." — Hungry ! I'll take a wing of the chicken before 
you — killed probably last year. How many " friends, coun- 
trymen, and lovers," are you going to call on to day ? 

Brigadier. — I wish I knew how many I shall not call on ! 
What is a — (pass the butter if you please) — what is a pat of 

(352) 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 353 

butter, like one, spread over all the daily bread of my acquain- 
tance ? 
« We."— 

" 'Tis Greece— but living Greece no more !" 

I'll tell you what /have done, general. Here is a list of all 
my circle of pasteboard. It begins with those I love, and ends 
with those with whom I am ceremonious. Those whom I 
neither love nor am ceremonious with, form a large between 
ity of indifference ; and though you may come to love those 
with whom you are ceremonious, you never can love those you 
are wholly indifferent to. I have crossed out this betweenity. 
Life is too short to play even a game of acquaintance in which 
there is no possible stake. 

Brigadier. — How short life is, to be sure ! 

" We." — Shorter this side the water than the other ! In 
Europe a man is not bowed out till he is ready to go ! Here, 
he is expected to have repented and made his will at thirty- 
seven ! I shall pass my " second childhood" in Prance, where 
it will pass for a continuation of the first-! 

Brigadier. — My dear boy, don't get angry ! Eat your 
breakfast and talk about New Year's. What did the Greeks 
used to do for cookies ? 

" We." — Well thought of — they made presents of dates 
covered with gold leaf! Who ever gilds a date in this coun- 
try ? No, no, general ! You will see dozens of married 
women to-day who have quietly settled down into upper ser- 
vants with high-necked dresses — lovely women still — who 
would be belles for ten years to come, in France ! Be a mis- 
sionary, brigadier ! Preach against the unbelievers in rhulie- 



354 THE RAG-BAG. 



brity ! It's New Year and time to begin something ! Implore 
your friends to let themselves be beautiful once more ! 
(Breast-bone of that chicken, if you please !) I should be con- 
tent never to see another woman under thirty — their loveable 
common-sense comes so long after their other maturities ! 

Brigadier. — What common place things you do say, to be 
sure ! "Well, mi-boy, we are going to begin another year !. 

" We." — Yes — prosperously, thank God ! And, oh, after 
the first in-haul of rent from these well-tenanted columns, what 
a change we shall make in our paper ! Let us but be able to 
afford the outlay of laborious aid, which other editors pay for, 
and see how the Mirror will shine all over ! I have a system 
in my brain for a daily paper — the fruit of practical study for 
the last three months — which I shall begin upon before this 
month has made all its icicles ; and you shall say that I never 
before found my true vocation ! The most industriously ed- 
ited paper in the country is but the iron in the razor ; and 
though it is not easy to work that into shape, anybody can 
hire it done, or do it with industry. The steel edge, we shall 
find time to put on, when we are not, as now, employed in tink- 
ering tlie iron ! 

Brigadier, — Black-and-white-smiths — you and I ! 

" We." — No matter for the name, my dear general ! — one 
has to be everything honesty will permit, to get over the gulf 
we have put behind us. Civilized life is full of the most un- 
bridged abysses. Transitions from an old business to a new, 
or from pleasure to business, or from amusing mankind to 
taking care of yourself, would be supposed, by a "green" 
angel, to be good intentions, easy enough carried out, in a 



EDITORIAL CONFABS. 355 



world of reciprocal charities. But let them send down the 
most popular angel of the house of Gabriel & Co., to borrow 
money for the most brilliant project, without bankable security ! 
And the best of it is, that though your friends pronounce the 
crossing of a business-gulf, on your proposed bridge of brains, 
impossible and chimerical, they look upon it as a matter of 
course when it is done ! You and I are poets — if the money 
and fuss we have made will pass for evidence — yet nobody 
thinks it surprising that we have taken off our wings, and 
rolled up our shirt-sleeves to carry the hod ! Not to die with- 
out having experienced all kinds of sensations, I wish to be 
^ich — though it will come to me like butter when the bread is 
,gone to spread it on. Heigho ! 

Brigadier. — How you keep drawing similitudes from what 
you see before your eyes ! Let me eat my breakfast without 
turning it into poetry ! It will sour on my stomach, my dear 
boy! 

"■We." — So you are ordered out to smash the Helderbergers, 
general ? __ 

Brigadier. — Ordered to hold myself in readiness — that's all 
at present. I wish they'd observe the seasons, and rebel in 
pleasant weather ! Think of the summit of a saddle with the 
thermometer at zero ! Besides, if there is any fighting to do 
one likes an enemy. This campaign to help the constable, 
necessary as it is, goes against my stomach ! 

"We" — Fortify it, poor thing! What say to a drop of 
curacoa before you begin your New Year's round ? {Pouring 
for the general and himself .) Burke states, in his "Vindica- 
tion of Natural Society," that your predecessor, Julius Csesar, 



356 THE BAG-BAG, 



was the means of killing two millions one hundred thousand 
men ! How populous is Helderberg — women and all ? 

Brigadier. — Twelve o'clock, my dear boy, and time to be 
shaking hands and wishing. Take the first wish off the top 
of my heart — a happy New Year to you, and — 

" We." — Gently with that heavy benediction ! 

Brigadier. — God bless you, mi-boy ! 

{Exit the brigadier, affected.) 



26 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY CHAS. SCRIBNER. 

RURAL LETTERS, 

AND OTHER RECORDS OP THOUGHTS AT LEISURE. 
BY N. P. WILLIS. 
Embracing " Letters from under a Bridge," " Open-Air Musings in the 
City," " Invalid Rambles in Germany," " Letters from Watering Places," 
&c, &c. 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Fourth edition. Price $1 25. 

This volume has won for the author a reputation as one of the most agreeable writers 
of light and gossiping literature in our country. 

" There is scarcely a page in it which the reader will not remember, and turn to agai. 
with a fresh sense of delight. It bears the imprint of Nature in her purest and most 
ioyous forms, and under her most cheering and inspiring influences." — N. Y. Tribime. 

" There is more than one passage, too, in the volume, whose deep, and true, and richly 
uttered pathos brings the heart into the throat with a spontaneous throb." — New York 
Independent. 



PEOPLE I HAVE MET; 

OR, PICTURES OP SOCIETY AND PEOPLE OP MARK — DRAWN UNDER A THIN VEIL 

OP FICTION. 

BY N. P. WILLIS. 

1 vol., 12mo. Third edition, cloth. Price $1 25. 

" This book embraces a great variety of personal and social sketches in the old world, 
and concludes with some thrilling reminiscences of distinguished ladies — including the 
belles of New York." — Buffalo Republic. 

" These stories and sketches are very amusing. One needs not the open avowal of the 
preface, or even the hint of the title-page, to teach him that Mr. Willis has drawn from 
actual life. It would be impossible to feign anything so perfectly life-like." — Sartairi's 
Magazine. 



LIFE HERE AND THERE; 

OR, SKETCHES OP SOCIETY AND ADVENTURES AT PAR-APART TIMES AND PLACES. 

BY N. P. WILLIS. 

1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 

" And sketches they are, too. They are well worth perusing; for so spiritedly and so 
definedly are they drawn, that the reader can fill them up at his own leisure, or enjoy 
them just as they are." — New York Albion. 

" The characters are all drawn from life, however, and several of them are portraits, 
done with studied faithfulness, of celebrated women whom he had the opportunity to 
know ; while the scenes of the different stories are minutely true to the manners of the 
jountries and the style of society in which they are laid." — Merchant's Magazine. 



N. P. WILLIS' WORKS. 21 



HURRY-GRAPHS ; 

OB, SKETCHES FROM FRESH IMPRESSIONS OP SCENERY, CELEBRITIES, AND 

SOCIETY. 

BY JUT. P. WILZIS. 

1 vol., 12mo., cloth. (3d edition.) Price $1 25. 

" This yolume is filled with illustrations of his admirable skill. * * * We might look 
in vain for more just and felicitous portraitures, than those which are dashed off as 
' Hurry-graphs ' almost on every page of this living picture gallery." — 2F. Y. Tribune. 

"As a light essayist and clever paragraphist, Willis has few superiors, and' these 
' Hurrv-graphs ' will be read with avidity by all." — Detroit Free Press. 



PENOILLINGS BY THE WAY. 

BT IT. P. WILLIS. 
A new and revised edition. 1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 

" One of the freshest and most sparkling ever written by its popular author." — Phila- 
delphia Evening Bulletin. 

" This work is too well known to need description. It contains graphic and spirited 
descriptions of society and scenes in the Old World, and has probably obtained a popu- 
larity second to no book of travels ever published in America." — Boston Journal. 

" These graphic descriptions of foreign scenery, society, and manners, have never been 
equalled." — Weekly Eclectic. 



A SUMMER CRUISE IN THE MEDITERRA- 
NEAN, 

ON BOARD OP AN AMERICAN FRIGATE. 

BY m P. WILLIS. 

1 vol. 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 

This volume describes, in a pleasant and glowing manner, a visit to one of the most 
interesting portions of the globe — a region exceeding all others in the memorials of art, 
Jn historical and poetical associations. 

" To read this book, one enjoys almost the pleasures of an actual ramble with him."— 
Poughkeepsie Telegraph. 

" The public will give a hearty welcome to this beautiful volume, in which will be recog- 
nized an old friend, greatly improved since last met. It was written by Willis when a 
young man, and in his richest and most fascinating style." — Cincinnati Gazette. 



\ 



28 BOOKS PUBLISHED BY CHAS. SCRIBXER. 



FUN JOTTINGS; 

OR, LAUGHS I HATE TAKEN A PEN TO. 
BY 21. P. WILLIS. 

1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 

"As a cordial to the animal spirits when drooping with care or flagging with excess of 
labor, this volume of ' Fun Jottings ' bears the palm." — ST. Y. Independent. 

" The character of this book is sufficiently indicated by its title. It is not purely fancy 
or fact, but a mixture of both. It bears throughout the stamp of the author's peculiar 
genius." — Puritan Recorder. 

" This book contains some inimitable sketches." — Boston Olive Branch. 



A HEALTH TRIP TO THE TROPICS, ETC. 

BY N. P. WILLIS. 
1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 
This book contains Mr. Willis's recent travels to the tropics. 

" Mr. Willis has exceeded himself in his descriptions of his trip to the delightful tro- 
pical regions — a most delicious repose steals over you as you read. You cannot imagine 
that he is an invalid, and if one yourself he soon makes you think that you are one no 
longer. His pictures of the Bermuda Islands are perfect, and there are mingled through 
them the most valuable facts, lessons and suggestions." — Albany Spectator. 

" The facility with which Mr. Willis describes, enables him almost to persuade his 
hearers that they are travelling with him — seeing with his eyes and hearing with his ears 
— those who would like a trip to the tropics during one of the long cold evenings of the 
approaching winter, may enjoy that luxury cheaply by taking passage in this volume." — 
Christian Intelligencer. 



LETTERS FROM IDLEWILD. 

BY IT. P. WILLIS. 

1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 

" A simple weaving into language of the every-day circumstances of an invalid retira- 
ment in the Highlands of the Hudson, written in letters to the Home Journal, and it was 
aspected that they would owe their interest to being plainly truthful, and to picturing 
exactly the life that formed itself around the new-comer to one particular portion of our 
country — its climate, its conveniences, its accessibilities, and its moral and social atmo- 
sphere. As it is a neighborhood to which the sick are often sent by the physicians of 
New York, for the nearest mountain air, which is completely separated from the seaboard, 
the author has thought it might add a utility to his book to give his invalid experience 
with the rest. In this feature of it he has aimed to serve his fellow-sufferers."— Extract 
from Preface. 



N. P. WILLIS' WORKS. 29 



FAMOUS PERSONS AND PLACES. 

BY JST. P. WILLIS. 

1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 

"The personal portrayings of distinguished contemporaries of which this volume is 
mainly composed, will insure its readableness. It will have a value, from the same quality, 
that will increase with time, and be, also, independent to a certain degree, of its literary 
merits. Sketches of the men of mark of any period are eagerly devoured — more eagerly 
as the subjects pass away and are beyond further seeing and describing — the public re- 
quiring less that they should be ably done than that they should be true to the life. Cor- 
rectness in such pencillings is more important than grace in the art. And this I claim to 
have proved for these sketches." — Extract from, the Preface. 

" This volume presents a more charming specimen of Willis's unique style than any of 
his productions in prose." — N. Y. Tribtme. 

"As a specimen of Willis's best style of writing, his freshness, grace, brilliancy and 
geniality, we do not know where we can find in all his writings a book more worthy of 
study, or one from the nature of its theme more likely to interest the general reader."— 
T. S. Arthur's Gazette. 

" The varied characters of this book, and its exquisitely finished and graphic descrip- 
tions both of persons and places, must make it one of the greatest favorites of the 
season." — N. Y. Express. 

" Everybody loves to hear about great men and women whom they have never seen, 
End about celebrated places which they have never visited. This book furnishes the best 
substitute for this sort of gratification, in a series of most graphic delineations and des- 
criptions." — Albany Argus. 



THE RAO BAG. 

BY JUT. P. WILLIS. 

1 vol., 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 

{Will be published in March, 1855.) 

" This volume is a selection from the articles written for the ' Home Journal.' The 
ehange in the taste of the times — literature being more served in small fragments than it 
used to be, is one inducement to collect these brief compositions into a book ; but another 
reason is the feeling of the author, that they deserve it as well as his other writings, in 
being written with equal care and elaboration ; while the approbation which they have 
met with, in the success of the periodical of which they were the leading feature, makes 
it certain that they will be at least saleable. Such a collection, however, will have still 
another value, containing as photographs of the passing events, celebrities and topics of 
the time, and just that look and impress of them which were lost in the bubble-breaking 
flow of the tide of periodical literature."— From the Preface. 



N. P. WILXIS'S COH^JPIf: PROSE WOEKS, 11 vols., half calf. Price $20 00. 













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